


No Surrender

by capsiclewidow



Series: The Tightly Tangled Web [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And Clint Is Confused, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), F/M, Minor Character Death, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve And Nat Are Idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-08-19 19:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capsiclewidow/pseuds/capsiclewidow
Summary: “Who sent you?” Thor demanded. Something squealed and suddenly Tony’s voice replaced the robot’s.“I see a suit of armor around the world.”Bruce gasped. “Ultron.”“In the flesh,”the bot replied.“Or, no…not yet.”Tony’s eyes flickered uneasily towards Bruce. Natasha glanced over at him too. He was gaping back at Tony, eyes wide with disbelief.“Not this…Christmas. But I’m ready.”Mjolnir hummed in Thor’s hand, and Maria discreetly pulled out the pistol strapped to her thigh and clicked off the safety.“I’m on a mission.”“What mission?” Natasha asked.“Peace in our time.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second installment of the Tightly Tangled Web series! Thank you so much for everyone who's stuck around since Old Wounds, I appreciate it more than you can imagine.
> 
> I recommend reading part one of the series, Old Wounds, before this one. They all follow the movies so obviously the plot is the same, but it offers a lot of insight into Natasha's state of mind going into part two that's necessary to understand where she's coming from.
> 
> Just a couple things regarding the tags:  
1\. The minor character death tag is just in case, but this is Age of Ultron, so I think it's obvious what it's referencing. Just wanted to throw it in to cover my bases.  
2\. This is _not_ a Brucenat fic. Again, this is Ultron, so I think that's obvious, but it does explore their relationship as the entire work is canon compliant. 
> 
> Title comes from the comic Avengers: No Surrender (2018). Rating is for language and mild implied sexual content.

**WASHINGTON, D.C. | JANUARY 2015**

It was well past one in the morning when Steve pulled his bike up to the side of his building, parked it in the alleyway, and made his way up to his 4th floor unit.

He couldn’t sleep. Hadn’t been able to in weeks, really, but at least most nights he’d get in a solid hour or two before he’d wake from the nightmares, sometimes screaming and falling into a raging panic attack that took quite a while to come down from.

He’d been having the same dreams almost every time he shut his eyes. Eight months of looking for Bucky had given them nothing but old memories that weren’t his and plenty to leave to the imagination. He saw Bucky almost every night now, whether it was being tortured in one of the old Hydra bases they’d uncovered, being frozen alive, falling from the train, beating Steve senseless until he fell from his grasp, or pulling him into too tight of a hug the night before he shipped out, the last time he saw _him_ before the war got to him.

It was _exhausting_.

He and Sam returned to DC just over a month ago. They’d been back a few times since leaving for Ukraine last year, but never for more than a week or two at a time. Sam insisted he was okay with continuing their search, but Steve could tell he was tired.

Every single lead they’d followed ended up piling on more questions and uncertainties. When they happened to uncover an old abandoned Hydra base in Bucharest with an outdated cryostasis device and several filing cabinets covering years of notes on ‘The Asset,’ Steve finally decided to call it quits for a while. The realization that Bucky had been held here for probably months and years at a time, maybe even _decades_, shook him a little too much to continue. He was closer to losing his sanity than finding Bucky, and Tony had also hinted more than once that he and Maria needed his and Sam’s help dealing with the aftermath of SHIELD being destroyed.

So Sam went back to his job at the VA, and Steve returned to a nearly destroyed apartment. He’d found out after leaving the hospital that the STRIKE team had turned it upside down after declaring him a fugitive. He assumed their intent was to figure out where he might have gone and who he may have gotten in contact with, but it looked as if they’d enjoyed it enough to go a little overboard.

When he’d first come home to see the damage, he was still recovering from some of his more internal injuries and decided to just leave it. After that he’d put off going home for months, staying with Sam for a night or two when he wasn’t in New York. When they made the decision to put off their search indefinitely, he finally forced himself to go home and face the damage.

For the next few weeks, he’d kept himself busy and distracted with fixing it up. He’d needed to refinish the hardwood in a few places, re-plaster, and paint the entire unit. There were a few doors torn off their hinges, the kitchen cabinets torn apart, furniture destroyed, and of course the giant holes in the wall from where The Winter Soldier had shot Nick. His desk had been torn apart too, his nice pens and drawing pencils strewn all over the floor.

Maintaining SHIELD’s various property investments apparently wasn’t very high on Hydra’s list of priorities, and technically no one owned the building anymore. That had given Steve plenty of time while he was out of the country to deal with it, but if he wanted to sell the place and get the hell out of DC, it was in desperate need of some work.

And so he worked, pouring all his free time and energy into fixing the walls and the floors and the cabinets and everything else. Distracting himself from the fact that Bucky was still out there, that his entire life had been taken from him _again_, that he was unemployed, had no directives or orders, had no one else but Sam who had his own life and worked most days.

That Natasha, someone he hadn’t realized had become such a fixture in his life, had _left_ him.

Steve hadn’t heard from her since that day in the cemetery. She’d disappeared and hadn’t bothered to contact him to let him know where she was or if she was okay. She’d apparently decided she would rather be alone after everything they’d gone through together than trust him to be there for her like he - as much as he hadn’t wanted to admit it - needed her to be there for him. She’d handed him Bucky’s file, kissed him on the cheek, and tried one more time to set him up with someone before walking away and never looking back.

For the first time, he’d taken her advice. Maybe it was spite, maybe it was pettiness, maybe it was loneliness…maybe it was a little bit of all three. He’d seen Sharon about a month after SHIELD fell, in the process of moving out of her apartment, while he and Sam had come home for a few days. He’d helped her load some boxes and furniture. She’d suggested getting dinner at a little diner down the street in return for his help.

He hadn’t heard from her since. He liked her fine, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

For the first few weeks he’d been so concentrated on Bucky and nothing else that he was able to push Natasha to the back of his mind. She would be fine, he knew she would be. They both just needed time.

But then she’d showed up in his dreams one night. It hadn’t been anything dramatic, just a brief flash of vibrant red hair and bright green eyes and a laugh lingering on her lips. When he woke up he hadn’t remembered a single thing about the dream besides her.

He couldn’t _stop_ thinking about her after that. He’d wonder where she might have gone and even entertained the idea of trying to find her once or twice. He’d pull out his phone and stare at her number even though he knew damn well it was disconnected. He finally broke down and called Clint, who just said she was fine and left it at that. Sam asked him about her once, just a simple, “_Hey, you heard from Romanoff? How’s she doing?”_ But it had come out of nowhere and flustered him. Sam noticed and didn’t bring her up again.

The more time went on the regret he’d felt the last time he’d seen her began eating away at him, and it had only gotten worse since they returned home. Sure, repairing his apartment distracted him for a while. And he would hang out with Sam sometimes, usually heading over to his house on weekends or evenings when he wasn’t working to order takeout and watch whatever sports game was on TV.

He’d been to Manhattan a few times on Avengers business, but he and Stark weren’t the type of friends that hung out. Besides, when Tony wasn’t in New York he was either in Malibu or some other part of the world running his company. Bruce wasn’t around much. Thor hadn’t been back to Earth since the situation in London and had only visited New York briefly, filling them in on what happened. He then informed them that his mother had passed and that the nine realms needed his help to restore order after the convergence.

Steve supposed he could have called Sharon again - as far as he knew she was still living in the city, working for the CIA - but he could never bring himself to do so.

The longer he stayed in DC, the more isolated he felt. And when he was isolated he let his mind wander too much. When he let his mind wander too much, he allowed himself to miss Natasha.

So tonight, instead of lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning and inevitably seeing Bucky or Peggy or Natasha or his mother and waking up in a panic, he’d gotten dressed, hopped on his bike, and drove. He didn’t care what direction he went or what time it was or that he was completely and utterly _exhausted_.

He’d ended up somewhere outside of Richmond, Virginia. By then it had started lightly snowing, so he stopped at at a twenty-four hour gas station for a cup of coffee and headed back to DC.

His dark apartment greeted him, just as still and quiet as he’d left it. A light, cold breeze whistled through the window he’d left cracked open in the kitchen, hitting the back of his neck as he turned towards the coat rack installed on the wall to hook his keys to it. A car hummed by on the street below, and a distant siren pulsed over the creek of the floorboards underneath his feet.

He paused before unzipping his jacket. A new sound met his ears, so faint it was barely audible over the wind: the sound of cotton against cotton, the sensation of being watched prickling the hair at the nape of his neck. He stilled, straining his ears to hear the brief, almost silent exhale of a breath. He let out his own, relaxing a bit despite the sudden increased pounding of his heart, and continuing to unzip his jacket.

“You know,” he said finally, pulling it off and hanging it on a second hook, “I seem to remember asking you to knock.”

“I did. You didn’t answer.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but when he turned around to face her his breath hitched in his lungs and the words at the tip of his tongue disappeared completely. There she was, after nine _very_ long months, standing in his kitchen. Her hair was longer than it was the last time he’d seen her, and it framed her face in the natural waves she’d been in the habit of straightening last year. She was watching him with wide, uncertain eyes that glittered bright green in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

“You’re home late,” she said after a few long, painfully silent seconds. Steve’s jaw tightened and he shifted uncomfortably, his arms crossing tightly over his chest.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied flatly, once he’d recovered his voice. “What are you doing here?”

He saw something...regret, maybe. Or discomfort. But as quickly as it had flashed through her eyes it was gone, and her features smoothed, completely emotionless.

“I…thought I’d check in. See how you were doing.”

“You have my number. You didn’t have to break into my apartment.”

Her eyes narrowed, only a little, and the corner of her lips ticked upwards.

_Stop looking at her lips_.

“But this is so much more _fun_.” She was uncomfortable. It was subtle, nothing but the slight rigidness of her voice giving it away. It wasn’t like her. She took a long breath and her expression softened. “I just...wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I can take care of myself,” he retorted. She frowned at him.

"You're mad at me.”

"I'm not mad."

“You’re also a shitty liar.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but still felt the guilt creeping up on him. He wasn’t sure why he was being so cold towards her. He’d wanted to see her for months, hadn’t he? He’d spent the last nine months thinking about her, about what he’d say when he saw her, what he’d do. And now that she was here, standing just a handful of feet away from him, his mind was completely blank.

She sighed and stood up from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter, taking a few hesitant steps towards him. He tensed at the thought of her getting any closer. She noticed.

“Steve-“

“You _left,_ Natasha.”

She balked, her jaw tightening. But she didn’t look away. “I had to.”

“Why?”

She didn’t answer. She just stared at him, a crease between her brow, her eyes that were usually devoid of emotions absolutely swimming with them, with hurt and regret and a sea of other things, all swirling around in a storm of green. They were watching him carefully, trying to read him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered finally, her voice shaking just enough for him to notice.

“Nat-“

She cut him off by closing the few feet between them, reaching up to cup his face in her hands and pulling him down to press her lips hard against his. He stumbled backwards a bit, thrown off by the suddenness of it, and her hand fell to grab his t-shirt, holding him steady. Once the initial shock wore off his hands found her hips and pulled her closer, to which she responded enthusiastically, pushing herself up on her toes and kissing him again.

Last time she’d kissed him had been entirely different. It was work, and even though it had confusingly turned into something more than he thought she’d intended, it wasn’t the same. She’d still been holding back, had kept him at arms length and took only what she needed until the danger was past.

But this? This was slower and more desperate, it made him dizzy and knocked the breath out of him until his lungs were burning.

And then she stopped and pushed herself away from him, her eyes wide with horror.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I don’t...know why I...I have to go.”

“Natasha-“ She brushed past him, but headed farther into his apartment instead of down the hall towards the front door. “Where are you going?”

“Out your bedroom window to the fire escape.”

Steve didn’t have time to laugh at that. He hurried after her, catching her just outside his bedroom door. He reached for her, his fingers curling around her wrist.

“Nat, stop.” She did, but didn’t look up at him, dropping her eyes to the floor instead. “You can use the door, you know.”

“This seemed more dramatic,” she replied softly. Finally she lifted her gaze to meet his, a nervous smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“It’s okay.”

She was close to him again, so close he could smell her generically scented shampoo. And she was watching him, her eyes wide, swirling with vulnerability and discomfort.

He hated this…the awkwardness, the thick tension creating this uncomfortable valley between them. It was nothing like it used to be, before SHIELD fell and she left. It seemed so _easy_ then.

He’d never seen her like this, not even in those rare moments where she’d let him get little glimpses of _her_ beyond the emotionless persona she put on for everyone else. Even in situations that made her vulnerable, she still held herself together incredibly well.

But now she was jittery and uncomfortable, enough for him to notice. She was _nervous_, something he’d never seen in her, not even when they were staring down an entire population of aliens or an Asgardian god or a terrorist organization threatening actual world domination.

He thought back to the last time he’d seen her, the careful way she’d handed off Bucky’s file, the practiced smoothness of her voice when she insisted he call Sharon. Did she know how he felt about her? Hell, _he_ didn’t even really have a handle on that, but this was _Natasha_, and she knew everything. Maybe she knew more about him than he knew about himself, and saw something he hadn’t let himself see first. Maybe he made _her_ uncomfortable, because she could tell how much he’d missed her and wished he wouldn’t have let her go all those months ago.

But again…this was _Natasha_. She didn’t allow others to make her uncomfortable. She would never let anyone, especially a man, put her in that position without knowing exactly what she was doing. And besides, she was the one who broke into his apartment, who came to him first.

She was the one who had just kissed _him_.

He didn’t want her to go. He hesitated, knowing there was a good chance this was the wrong thing to say, but saying it anyway.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“Steve…”

He let go of her wrist and used that hand to push her hair back. It was just as soft as he remembered, and while he tucked a loose piece of it behind her ear, he thought about how much he liked it; she was always beautiful, but something about how long and curly and unkept it was seemed so much more _her_ than the smooth, perfectly straightened style he’d gotten used to. That Natasha always had to keep up some kind of cover, always had to be the perfect agent, always had to keep her mask on.

She hadn’t moved. If she knew what he wanted to do, how much he wanted to kiss her again, she wasn’t stopping him. So he did, softly at first, just a brush of his lips against hers, giving her a chance to back out if she wanted to. She kissed him back instead, sliding her hands up to clasp behind his neck and pull him farther down, allowing him to back her gently into the doorframe.

“You’ve been practicing,” she breathed finally, her lips moving against his when he let her come up for air. She smirked at the look her gave her.

“You don’t need _practice_,” he muttered back. Just to prove his point, and before she could argue, he kissed her again. Deeper this time, pouring everything he had into it: how much he’d missed her, every ounce of whatever complicated feelings he had for her, making up for every single time he’d wanted to kiss her before but had held back.

Satisfied with the little noise of surprise it earned him, he slid his arms down and easily lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. She snaked her arms up to rest on his shoulders, her hair falling down over his face, not protesting when he turned into the room. It wasn’t until he’d crossed it and laid her down on the bed that she finally broke away.

“Are you sure about this?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was dark, but the moonlight streaming in from the window made her eyes sparkle and her hair glow bright red against the stark white of his pillowcase. She reached up and pushed his hair back, then slid her hand down to rest on the side of his face.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, overwhelmed by how absolutely _beautiful_ she looked, staring up at him with wide eyes and a nervous, crooked little smile on her lips. “You?”

She responded by pulling him down to press her lips against his again, softer this time, but it didn’t last long. She stopped suddenly, and when he pulled back enough to meet her eyes, she was frowning up at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” She trailed off, pulling her bottom lip under her teeth. “This isn’t…I mean, you’ve…_done_ this before...right?”

Steve groaned. “Jesus, Nat-“

“It’s a valid question!” she replied defensively, but still with her lips curved up into a grin.

“Just because I’m ninety-six doesn’t mean-“

She pulled him towards her again, his words getting lost in the back of his throat as she cut him off.

Natasha had run for nine months straight. Away from SHIELD (well, _Hydra_, technically), away from Nick trying to track her down, away from Clint’s incessant attempts at getting her to come back, away from her own past that was constantly trying to catch up to her, and away from Steve.

_Mostly_ from Steve.

She’d given him that bullshit line about needing to create more covers for herself (everyone knew who she was now, there weren’t going to _be_ any more covers) and practically sprinted in the opposite direction, anything to save herself from spiraling even more out of control than she already had.

She’d ended up in Romania first, flying into Vienna via three different carefully chosen flights that took her in a circle around Europe, before stealing a car and driving for almost a full day on back highways through Slovakia, Sokovia, and Hungary. Then, satisfied with the roundabout way she’d traveled and certain that no one had followed her, she headed south for another half-day to Bucharest.

That’s where she’d started looking for James.

She felt awful for sending Steve and Sam to Kiev. They wouldn’t leave Ukraine empty-handed, of course. The Red Room was inactive - she’d taken it down with her bare hands over a decade ago, with help from Clint and Nick - but they were still everywhere in the form of underground bases and abandoned labs and paperwork, if you knew where to look. She given them just enough to get them started in the wrong direction. By her guess, she had about two weeks to find James first before they got themselves on the right track.

She wasn’t sure where he would go first, only that he wouldn’t have stayed in the US for long. He was too smart for that, regardless of how much of the programming he had or hadn’t broken through. SHIELD had a headquarters in Bucharest, and based on the intel she’d dug up from the files she’d released, he’d been kept there for a period of time in the late eighties, before they met. Besides DC - it seemed as if Pierce had moved him there at some point in the last decade - it was the most recent known long-term holding location for the Winter Soldier.

She happened to know that James spoke Romanian flawlessly, and that he’d always liked Bucharest, so it was the most logical place to begin her search. He’d want to be somewhere familiar and comfortable, but she knew he wouldn’t dare go back to Russia or Germany looking for answers. Not yet, anyway.

She was right. Twelve days into her two-week window of finding him, she’d caught him following her on her way back to her hostel. It took three hours for him to finally knock on the door, and another thirty minutes before he actually spoke.

“_Stop following me,_” he’d muttered in Russian, his voice low and quiet.

“_You followed me_,” she’d replied, offering him a hesitant smirk when he glared at her in response.

He stayed there that night, trusting her to keep watch while he slept - _really_ slept, well into the next afternoon, probably the first time he had in god only knew how long - but not understanding _why_ he trusted her. She’d filled him in with vague details, enough for him to start remembering things on his own but not too much to overwhelm him. That they knew each other, he’d trained her, but not the nature of their relationship. It wasn’t until after he woke up the next day that he’d asked about Steve.

He told her he’d gone to the museum in DC before leaving the country. He knew his own name, that he was apparently James Buchanan Barnes, that he’d been called Bucky, and that he was supposed to have died in 1945. He knew Steve had been his best friend but didn’t remember him, didn’t remember _any_ of it.

And then he told her that he didn’t want Steve to find him.

She’d agreed to help him. James wasn’t ready to face Steve again, and Steve definitely wasn’t as prepared to deal with James as he thought he was. And Natasha wasn’t ready to go back home. She’d given him a few fake passports that she’d had made for him when she’d gotten her own, a wad of cash, a list of every Red Room location in Europe and Asia, and a pre-paid burner phone. He’d snuck out that night while she pretended to sleep.

She didn’t see him again, but she’d put every ounce of energy she had into sending Steve in the wrong direction. She stayed one step ahead of them, placing false leads in their way. It was exhausting, but kept her busy. Gave her a mission. A purpose.

After eight months of searching they’d given up, but Natasha still wasn’t ready to follow them back. Even when she’d finally let Clint contact her and he told her Laura was pregnant, she couldn’t bring herself to go back. She promised she’d visit for Christmas like she always did, but headed to Russia instead.

She wasn’t sure why she ended up in Volgograd until she was there, walking through a cemetery in the middle of the Russian winter on New Years Eve, staring down at three very tiny gravestones next to a chain-link fence. Half covered in snow, two of them were etched with names she’d long since forgotten until digging them up a few days prior: Anastasiya and Alian Romanova, dead since 1933. The third was a surprise, informing her that Natalia Alianovna, age five, had been buried with her parents the same year.

Discovering she’d been legally dead for eighty-one years was enough to finally convince her to go home.

But she didn’t go to Clint’s. She didn’t go back to her apartment in Manhattan. She didn’t go to Stark Tower. She ended up standing on the street in the snow staring up at Steve’s apartment.

She should have left before she even entered the building. Should have left when she knocked and he didn’t answer. Should have left when he walked through the front door. Shouldn’t have fucking kissed him like that. Shouldn’t have let herself wind up curled next to him in his bed, her back against his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around her as he started to fall asleep.

Nine months of running from him and she ended up spiraling even further than where she’d started.

“You okay?” Natasha ignored him, keeping her body completely still and her breaths even. Hoping he’d think she was asleep. “I know you’re awake.”

_Damn_.

“I’m fine,” she replied softly. Steve ducked his head a bit and pressed a kiss against the back of her neck.

“I missed you,” he muttered, lips moving against her skin. All of the regret brewing in the back of her mind temporarily dissolved, and she rolled onto her back so she could offer him a soft smile in return.

“I missed you too.” He reached over to brush her hair away from her face, and she settled against him again, closing her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. I have a reputation.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, his breath tickling her nose, and twirled the ends of her hair in his fingers. “I won’t. I promise.”

They fell back into an easy silence, Steve idly playing with her hair. If she wasn’t attempting to stay awake, it would have been enough to lull her to sleep.

“You’re going to be gone in the morning, aren’t you?”

It was like he could read her mind. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced over at him.

“Steve-“

“I’m not naive enough to think this can…_go_ anywhere.” He averted his gaze, concentrating instead on the piece of hair between his fingertips. “I just wanna be prepared for you to leave again.”

“I’m not leaving,” she promised, her heart swelling when his lips curved up into a soft smile. ”Not like that.” She reached up and slid her hand over his. He dropped her hair and let her slip her fingers between his.

“Good.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “I mean, we can use you. Tony and Clint and me. Helping Fury with Hydra.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, then before he knew what was happening, she twisted herself towards him and pushed him over so he was on his back and she was leaning over him.

“Is that right?”

“Yea-“ She cut him off with a kiss, mostly for the grunt of surprise he let out when she did so.

“I think you just like having me around,” she muttered against his lips, and she felt them curve up into a smile despite the blush creeping up his ears.

“You’re not wrong.” She just grinned at him, satisfied with that answer, then settled down on top of him, her head tucked under his chin. He wrapped his arm around her waist and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Stay for a little while, at least.”

“Okay.”

It was all so _domestic_, curled up with her head on his chest like this, wearing the t-shirt she’d taken off of him earlier, his warm fingers underneath it tracing patterns along her hip. It was something she could get used to, if she let herself think about it.

She wondered what would happen if she stayed, _really_ stayed. She’d wake up in the morning with him wrapped around her, probably keep him in bed for another couple hours before they got hungry and he made her breakfast. Pancakes, inevitably, one of the only things he could actually cook. He’d put chocolate chips in them just for her, and make her tea since he knew she preferred it to coffee. They could lounge around all day, turning on a movie or television show but not actually paying attention. He’d protest, ask why they’d argued over what they were going to watch if she had no intention of actually watching it, but give in easily and let her distract him anyway. They’d order takeout for dinner, probably from the Chinese place down the block that she knew he loved, and end up back here, in his warm bed with her wrapped tightly in his arms, his face buried in her hair, her snuggled up to him wearing one of his t-shirts that she had no intention of returning. It would be so _easy_.

Too easy. And that scared the shit out of her.

She couldn’t stay, couldn’t drag him down with her like that. She’d had this argument with herself too many times over the last year to let herself just give in like that. It _couldn’t happen_.

Steve fell asleep quickly. She wished he would have taken longer, given her more time wrapped up in his arms like she was. Allowed her to enjoy this a little bit longer before everything went to shit again.

Once she was certain he wasn’t going to wake up she started moving, carefully and slowly. He was a light sleeper, and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he woke up and caught her.

Luckily she was able to slide away without waking him, and when she climbed off the bed he just let out a loud, sleepy breath and rolled over, his back to her. She dressed quickly, pulling on her jeans and boots, but keeping his t-shirt on, wadding up her own shirt and leather jacket in her arms before sneaking silently out of the bedroom.

She didn’t look back, because she knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an alternate title for this installment: Steve And Natasha Are Idiots
> 
> hope you enjoy, and don't hate me too much ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**MANHATTAN, NEW YORK | MARCH 2015**

It took five weeks before Steve came even remotely close to being used to living at Stark Tower. It had been undergoing major renovations after the penthouse and most of its surrounding floors had been destroyed by the Chitauri a few years ago. Tony and Pepper still had a multi-level suite at the top of the tower, of course, but the upper levels of the tower had been redesigned into a hangar, locker rooms, offices, labs, a state-of-the-art training center, conference rooms, a small corner for medical, and large common area. Stark’s name on the side of the building was now just an A, turning what used to be a Stark Industries monument into Avengers Tower, officially. Tony had reallocated all of his assets into creating a fully functional Avengers headquarters.

The only thing it was missing was Avengers.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint had helped Tony out occasionally before SHIELD fell. They’d seen Banner once or twice, and Thor only once since he’d taken Loki back to Asgard. Tony had split his time between Malibu for a while before his home was destroyed by AIM, so now he mostly operated out of Manhattan, trying to turn the Avengers into a full-time operation.

They hadn’t been needed that often, at least not until SHIELD fell. Now it seemed Jarvis was finding rogue Hydra cells left and right. With Natasha gone, Clint only checking in every once in a while, Bruce seemingly off the grid, and Thor somewhere in another solar system, that left Steve and Tony to take out whatever smaller organizations they came across. There was a mountain of data to comb through, and Jarvis was an incredible asset, but it was just too much to sort through with only two Avengers. There were countless higher-up Hydra agents that needed to be brought down, SHIELD assets that had gone missing, and dangerous overseas terrorist organizations that they weren’t even sure were Hydra or not.

The weapons were what concerned them the most. Jarvis had been keeping a running list of everything confirmed missing, and it was starting to grow too long for Steve’s liking. Most of the Chitauri weaponry taken from the Battle of New York was just _gone_. Steve hadn’t even realized they’d kept so much of it in the first place, and now it was in the hands of a worldwide terrorist organization that had a history of messing with technology it had no business dealing with. Loki’s scepter had disappeared too, along with several other unknown - and probably alien - artifacts that SHIELD had acquired over the last 70 years.

So, after months of talking himself out of it, Steve finally decided to take Tony up on his offer and move - _temporarily_, he insisted - back to the city and into his newly and individually designed apartment at the tower. It was nice, if not a bit expansive for his comfort, but decorated more traditionally as opposed to the cold contemporary design of the rest of the tower. The gym was great too, huge and open with machinery Steve didn’t know how to use, weights and punching bags designed to take a beating from a god and a couple super soldiers, and a full track that circled the outside of the entire floor and provided a spectacular view of the city.

Steve still preferred running outside. Tony questioned him a few times and could never quite fathom the idea that Steve preferred Central Park to an air-conditioned indoor track.

There were a lot of things about Steve Tony couldn’t quite understand, it seemed. Outside of missions and analyzing the data Jarvis was still combing through, they didn’t talk much. Occasionally Steve would run into Tony upstairs wandering in and out of his lab and the conference room, or in the common area, but the two of them mostly kept to themselves.

Maria worked jointly for Stark Industries and the Avengers operation, so she frequented the tower. Steve had only met Pepper a few times - she was usually traveling and didn’t stay at the tower much - but Steve liked her. He also got along well with Stark’s friend James Rhodes. Sam had came up from DC a couple times since Steve had relocated; once to assist Steve, Tony, Clint, and Rhodes take down a rather large Hydra lab causing trouble in Nigeria, and once to drag a very unwilling Steve to Yankee Stadium for a game. Team bonding, Tony said.

And then, on a sunny day in March, the sky suddenly clouded over and with a beam of energy on the tower’s landing pad, Thor appeared. He wasn’t happy.

Loki’s scepter quickly became priority number one. Heimdall - Thor explained that he could see everything in the universe, but Steve still had a hard time comprehending that concept - had sensed something, but his vision had been blocked by some kind of strong, powerful energy. It was the same energy that surrounded the Tesseract, and with something as powerful as the scepter in the hands of terrorists, Asgard needed to remove it from Earth as soon as possible.

It was nice having Thor around again. After he arrived and it was decided to call the team in, Maria tracked down Banner, and Clint started showing up much more regularly. Sam still helped out occasionally, as did Rhodes. In two weeks they’d successfully - and effectively - taken down three Hydra cells, none of which had the scepter but had the potential to be dangerous regardless.

It was a nice distraction from the constant reminder that Natasha had disappeared. _Again_.

If Tony had spoken to her about coming back, he hadn’t mentioned it. If Hill had been in contact with her, she wasn’t mentioning it either. Fury and Coulson were both still presumed dead; if they’d been in touch with her, he had no way of knowing.

Steve asked Clint exactly one time if he’d heard from her. He’d said, “Who?” and promptly walked away. He didn’t bring it up again.

They worked fine without her, of course, especially with Clint around and Steve having much more stealth and tactical training than he had three years ago. And maybe no one else noticed her absence. It didn’t seem like they did, at least.

Steve certainly noticed. It felt wrong, running ops without her by his side. It was..lonelier, in a way. He had the team, of course. He and Thor got along quite well and the discovery of what happened when the pure energy created by the hammer interacted with vibranium made them pretty much unstoppable. And he’d worked with Barton enough at SHIELD if they needed a less dramatic approach.

But it wasn’t the same.

He’d fought with Natasha by his side for almost two years. They _knew_ each other. They knew how each other fought, how they moved, how they thought. He could anticipate her every move, sense her silent approach, move in sync with her body to become an efficiently operating machine. He didn’t have that with anyone else, that connection, that _intimacy_.

And the more he thought about that, about how a part of him seemed the be missing, the more he hated himself for it. He hated himself for thinking and feeling the way he did, and he hated her for opening that door and then leaving again when she said she wouldn’t. It was irrational. He _knew_ it was. He’d known since the second she’d showed up at his apartment that it was dangerous to let himself give in that easily. But being angry with her somehow made it better. The hurt and irritation and anger masked everything else and let himself live with all of the shitty decisions he’d let himself make.

That worked fine for him, at least for the time being. He could pretend everything was fine, pretend he didn’t lay awake almost every night missing the way she felt curled up next to him, wishing she’d do something, _say _something, keep her promise not to disappear again.

Well, at least it _had_ worked fine, until a couple weeks after Thor and Bruce returned, and suddenly she walked into the conference room at the tower and took a seat across the table next to Clint like she’d done it every single day for months.

“Oh, good. Romanoff finally decided to show up for work.”

Steve froze at Tony’s words, every muscle in his body tensing and his heart rate skyrocketing. He didn’t look up from the tablet he’d been scrolling through the mission briefing on, desperately hoping for a few long seconds that, if he didn’t look up, she wouldn’t be sitting there in front of him.

It didn’t work. He finally dragged his eyes upwards and they landed on her. She leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest.

“Yeah? And what time did _you_ roll out of bed this morning, Stark?” she shot back.

“What makes you assume I’ve slept in the last forty-eight hours?” Tony replied.

Steve watched the exchange, fully aware he was staring but physically unable to tear his eyes away from her. She’d chopped her hair off, drastically different from the long waves from just a couple months ago. It reminded him of when he’d first met her, except now it was much less sleek and perfected, instead loose and wavy, framing her face in natural curls.

Her eyes flickered over to him and the brief half-second of eye contact sent his heart flying, tripping over itself, beating rapidly against his chest. It was over as soon as it started and then she was staring down at the tablet Clint had given her.

“Cap?”

Steve finally averted his gaze and it landed on Tony, suddenly mortified that he’d noticed. But he hadn’t, he just nodded towards the large holographic screen at the head of the table, signaling that he could start the mission brief. Steve sat down his own tablet and nodded.

“Weapons lab in Austria. Outside of Vienna,” he started awkwardly. As if no one knew that already. He stood and walked towards the end of the table so he could force his eyes to focus on Thor at the back of the room and Bruce and Sam sitting on the side of the table he’d just stood up from. Right on cue, Jarvis brought up an arial view of the location. “The intel doesn’t go into a lot of detail but it looks like they were playing with gamma radiation before SHIELD fell.” Bruce sighed. “But that was two years ago, who knows what they’ve gotten their hands on now.”

Jarvis pulled up the files that they did have on this particular lab. Steve had found interesting that it was so huge and, on paper, had been fronted as just a random warehouse when a rather large amount of employees had been assigned there. Further digging showed the same address was also listed as a weapons testing facility under SHIELD’s name, to explain why they needed more than just warehouse staff. Jarvis flipped to the last known floor plan of the building. He gestured towards one of the back entrances.

“Barton and I will go in first, see what we’re dealing with. Thor and Tony, be ready to-“

“_Barton?_” Tony cut in. He frowned over at Clint then back to Steve.

“Yeah…let me go in on the other side-“ Clint pointed at the plan on the screen. “-and I’ll get up high. Steps right off to the side there, they probably lead to the rafters. Then you and Nat can go in at the ground for recon.”

“I agree,” Natasha replied. Steve could help but glance over at her. She was frowning down at the tablet, sliding her fingers across it. “If Clint can get a good vantage point from that end we’ll get a better idea of what we’re working with.“

“Exactly,” Clint agreed.

“Thor and I will wait for your signal and head for the scepter or whatever else we find there,” Tony added. “Wilson can circle above, keep an eye on the perimeter.”

“And Banner with me. Away from the action unless we need him,” Clint finished.

“You want me _inside_?” Bruce asked incredulously.

“If we are truly dealing with gamma radiation in there…_you’re_ the expert. We’re going to need you,” Tony insisted. Bruce sighed, but agreed.

Everyone - except Natasha, of course - was watching Steve expectantly. He’d somehow let the team take all control from him. He didn’t really mind, of course. They were right. They were in a warehouse with plenty of vantage points for Barton, and he and Natasha worked better on the ground than anyone else did. They all knew that. Steve took a long breath, smiled approvingly and nodded.

“Sounds good. Everyone suit up, wheels up in ten.”

Natasha and Clint were the first to leave, heading in the direction of the armory. Thor was next, followed by Bruce and Tony, leaving Steve alone in the conference room with Sam.

“You alright, man?” he asked. Steve hadn’t told Sam what had happened between him and Natasha a couple months ago, but Sam wasn’t an idiot. They’d spent enough time together over the last year for him to notice that there was _something_ going on between them, even if he didn’t know what. As far as he knew, this was the first time he was seeing Natasha in almost a year.

“Fine,” Steve replied, a bit shorter than he’d anticipated. Sam narrowed his eyes a bit, unconvinced, and Steve sighed. “Come on,” he added, and led the way out of the room.

They were silent as they headed downstairs to get their gear, where Sam set off to find Tony, who had his wing pack after making some adjustments. Steve dressed in his suit quickly and silently. When he’d pulled on his gloves and secured his shield on his back, he headed towards the jet, turning the corner and almost running right into Natasha.

“Sorry, sorry…” he stammered, then quickly took a step backwards. “Uh…hi.”

“Hey.” She didn’t look over at him, just continued to concentrate on securing her Widow’s Bite’s to her wrists. His brain told him to keep walking, get to the jet, but he was unable to force his feet to move. So instead he just stood there, watching her.

“New suit?” he asked stupidly.

Natasha nodded exactly once. She turned one of her wrists upwards, then bent her fingers to activate the bracelets. They glowed, spreading lines of blue energy through her gloves, up her arms, and down the front of her suit to her boots. Her lips turned upwards into a little sideways smile. “Cool.”

“Natasha-“

“What?” she replied cooly, still avoiding him. She pressed another button on her wrist and suddenly Steve’s shield rattled on his back. It pushed forward, launching him a few feet towards Natasha before shuddering and flying sideways off his back, hitting a row of lockers, and clattering to the ground. That finally got her to glance up at him, dumbfounded, before her gaze fell on his shield.

“Magnets,” Steve realized. He stepped back, lifted his arm and activated the ones sewn into his suit. The shield flew back towards him, landing perfectly ready against his arm.

“That’s…useful,” she muttered under her breath.

She’d used the shield a few times in the past, mostly just picking it up when he’d dropped it to defend herself before throwing it back. He’d mentioned once that it would be nice to train with it just in case and she’d agreed, but they’d never really gotten around to it. Steve actually loved the idea of the magnets in his suit, which Tony had suggested after they’d had to dig his shield out of the Potomac last year. Apparently he’d taken the idea one suit further.

“I can, uh…teach you how to use it, if you want.” Steve pulled the shield from his arm and attached it to his back again.

“Sure.” She looked down at her wrists, readjusting her bracelets again.

“Does that mean you’re staying?”

Natasha closed her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. Something about it irritated him. How could it not? She said she wasn’t going to leave again and then disappeared for another two months. If anything, he had a team to lead, a team to which she belonged, and he didn’t appreciate being lied to.

“Steve-“

“You have to admit, you have a habit of-“

“We are _not_ talking about this now,” she hissed suddenly, whipping her head around to look him in the eyes.

“Are we going to talk about it ever?”

“No.”

“So…we’re just pretending nothing hap-“

“Yes.”

Steve’s mouth was left hanging open stupidly where cut off mid-sentence. He shut it quickly but didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t give him a chance to, anyway; she grabbed her batons off of the shelf on the wall that they’d been sitting, spun around on her heels and left him in the armory.

The flight to Austria was relatively quiet, despite how full the jet was this time around. Clint piloted the jet, Thor mostly sat worriedly by himself, and Sam and Tony spent the whole time going over the changes to Sam’s wing pack. Natasha sat next to Bruce near the front of the jet, and that left Steve to scroll through the mission briefing over and over again.

It occurred to him on the flight that this was the first time they’d actually ran a mission together as a team. Despite living at the tower for two months, Steve and Tony didn’t really talk much. He liked Thor a lot, but they didn’t know each other all that well. Same with Bruce. Sam only knew Steve and Natasha, and had only worked with Clint and Tony a couple times. Sam and Natasha were the only ones he knew well enough to trust in a fight and one of them was barely acknowledging his existence.

He had a nagging feeling this would end in disaster.

It was dark when Clint landed about a quarter mile from the warehouse. Natasha hoped that meant it would be empty, but they never usually got that lucky. Sam took off once they touched down so he could circle around the facility, closely followed by Thor and Tony. Natasha, Steve, Clint, and Bruce headed through the woods, using the cover of the trees and darkness to approach the building. Eventually the woods cleared, coming to an end about thirty feet from a fence. Beyond that was the warehouse.

It _looked_ deserted. There was no sign of security outside, which meant they weren’t expecting the Avengers to show up tonight.

“Barton, Banner, you have a clear path to the side entrance,” came Tony’s voice over the comm channel. Clint glanced over at Natasha, gave her a quick nod, then disappeared back into the woods to circle around the fence to the other side.

“Romanoff and I are heading in.”

_Romanoff_. Something about that sent an ache through her chest. He rarely called her that anymore, not unless he was being professional or joking around. Although, maybe it was a good thing. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? For things to go back to normal, back to impersonal and work-focused. Right?

Steve took one last glance around the grounds before leading the way towards the fence. Natasha followed, the two of them stopping right out side of it. It was probably ten feet high, nothing they couldn’t handle.

“Ready?” he asked.

Natasha took several steps backwards and he pulled his shield off of his back, snapping it to his arm and crouching down, the star facing upwards. He glanced over at her and nodded. Natasha took a running start and then leapt up, her boots landing against the vibranium as it shot her into the air. She flew over the fence and tumbled to the ground, landing in a summersault on the concrete and hopping to her feet. When she glanced back Steve had backed up almost to the woods, sprinted towards the fence, and jumped clean over the top of it, landing silently on his feet.

The building wasn’t far. They ran quickly across the yard and then flattened against the brick. Natasha pulled her pistol out of her holster and peeked around the corner.

“_You guys are clear,_” Sam said in their ears. They took that as an okay to proceed to the back door of the warehouse. “_This place looks completely abandoned._”

“_Yeah. I don’t like it_,” Tony replied. “_I’m not even getting any heat signatures_.”

“_The scepter can’t be here_,” Thor added.

He was right. Whoever had taken it _had_ to know how powerful it was or they wouldn’t have bothered taking it in the first place. Something like that would be well protected.

“Let’s go,” Steve breathed, and he brushed past her. He reached for the handle of the door and positioned himself on the opposite side of it. Natsha clicked off the safety of her pistol and held it up, ready to aim. He glanced over at her, she nodded, and he pulled open the door.

The warehouse was empty.

“What the hell?” Natasha muttered, taking a few steps in. The building was a shell, nothing but dust and crumbling pillars and debris.

“There’s nothing here,” Steve said into his comm link. He turned and shot Natasha a bewildered look. “It’s completely empty.”

“_Are we sure this is the right place_?” asked Clint.

“This was an active SHIELD lab. It was on all of their records in plain sight,” Natasha replied. Across the giant building a door creaked open. Clint came through it, followed by Bruce.

“_But are we sure they were accurate?_”

“There were…maintenance records. Pay stubs for employees…”

“Right. Why would they go to all that trouble for an abandoned warehouse?” Steve finished for her. She nodded and glanced aimlessly around the building again. Something still wasn’t sitting right about this. Why bother make something look legit that didn’t even exist?

Unless…

“Stark, what can you see?” she asked. “Heat signatures, gamma radiation, energy levels, air currants…anything?”

“_J_?”

_“I’m detecting energy consumption in the southwest corner of the structure_,” Jarvis answered. Natasha spun around to find the spot he mentioned. There was a section of the brick jutting out from the edge of the building. It looked like some kind of office.

“Abandoned buildings don’t need an energy connection,” Steve said, as if he was reading her mind.

They shared a glance and then crossed the distance to the office. The door had come off its hinges and was instead leaning against the brick outside of the room which, at first glance, also looked empty. An old desk sat in one corner with an outdated computer and telephone and dust covered the floor. Except…

“There’s a path here,” Steve noticed. It wasn’t obvious, and there were no visible footprints, but something about the way the dust streaked across the floor indicated someone or multiple someones had crossed this room several times.

“And this room isn’t as deep as it should be,” Natasha added. The back wall should have been against the outside of the warehouse, but it wasn’t. Steve crossed the room, stopping in front of the wall where the path ended. He studied it for a second, running his fingers vertically along the grout lines of the brick. Natasha turned back to the computer and inspected it more carefully.

“Can you get in?” Clint asked from the doorway.

Natasha glared at him.

“Of course I can, asshole,” she replied with a small upwards tick of her lips. Clint rolled his eyes.

“_Play nice kids_,” Tony’s voice said.

Natasha brought the old computer to life with a tap of the space bar and got to work. The software was more advanced for a system as old as this one was, but it was still easy enough. She broke through the firewall and, sure enough, the wall in front of Steve suddenly pulled back and to the side revealing a fully functional elevator.

“I knew it,” she breathed, turning towards it.

“Alright. You two-“ he motioned to Clint and Bruce. “-stay up here. Sam, keep an eye on the perimeter. Make sure no one notices we’re here.”

“_Got it, Cap_,” Sam answered.

“Thor and Tony, you two be ready in case this is too big for me and Nat to handle.”

Natasha noticed Clint shoot her a look out of the corner of her eye. No one called her that, no one besides him, Laura, and the kids. And, as he was now finding out, Steve. She ignored him.

“Wait for my signal,” Steve finished, and then he stepped into the elevator. Natasha followed, turning herself away from him to press the button to send them down.

The silence was deafening. The elevator wasn’t exactly state of the art, and it rattled downwards much slower than she would have preferred. It was also very, _very_ small. Every sway of the floor caused Steve’s arm to brush against hers. She shifted on her feet, adjusting her weight away from him, but he noticed and let out an irritated huff of air.

Natasha glanced up at him and he caught her eye. He opened his mouth to say something but she lifted her hand, pointing to her ear. Whatever he said, the rest of the team would hear too, and she did _not_ need to deal with them right now. They’d have a field day if they ever found out. Clint would never let her hear the end of it.

After what seemed liked forever, the elevator finally came to a halt. Steve pulled his shield off of his back and clicked it onto his arm. Natasha activated her widow’s bites and the energy coursing through the suit glowed blue in the dim overhead light.

The doors opened to a dark, empty hallway. Steve lifted his shield in front of him and stepped out of the elevator, Natasha lifting her gun once more and following him out. They were surrounded by nothing but concrete walls, not a single door besides one at the end of the hall just before it turned off to the right.

Static suddenly crackled in their ears. It sounded like snippets of Clint’s voice. _Shit._ Whatever was down here was blocking the signal. Natasha shot a glance over at Steve, and the look in his eyes told her he was thinking the same thing.

They were on their own.

“I don’t like this,” Steve muttered under his breath. “We should go back up for the rest of the team.”

“We don’t even know if anything is down here,” Natasha reminded him.

Steve sighed in disagreement but followed her anyway. When they reached the end of the hall she carefully pushed the door open to find an office. It was empty, but very active security feeds were displayed over a few different screens.

“You think we got lucky enough for no one to notice we were here?” Natasha asked lightly. Steve just sighed and followed her into the room, focusing on the feeds.

“_Shit,_” he breathed. Natasha followed his gaze and froze when she realized what he was seeing.

This was the _opposite_ of an abandoned warehouse. Offices, labs, storage rooms, and a large central work area were displayed in front of them. She couldn’t tell exactly what everything was, but she definitely recognized way more Chitauri weaponry than one lab needed.

“What do we do?”

Before Steve could answer, they heard footsteps outside the door. An agent stopped in his tracks, a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked dumbfounded for a split second that allowed Natasha to swing up her pistol and aim at his free hand, which had immediately flown towards a button on the side of the wall. Her bullet hit him right in the wrist and he screamed, but not before his hand smacked against the wall and an alarm blared.

“Shit!” Steve said again. He smacked his shield against the agent’s face and he fell to the floor, out cold. He lifted his finger to the comm link in his ear. “Can anyone hear us? We need backup, _now_!”

Nothing. Steve swore again.

“Well, let’s hope Jarvis can sense the alarms,” Natasha said. She pushed past him and turned to the other half of the hallway perpendicular to the one they’d come in from, pulling out another pistol. There were more doors this way, leading towards the offices and labs if the security cameras were any indication. “Let’s go.”

“Are you _crazy?_” Steve hissed, but he still followed her when she took off down the hall. “We need backup!”

“What’s a couple nazis? We took down an international terrorist organization remember?” she shot back at him. He let out an exasperated huff.

“Yeah. With _backup_.”

“You worry too much.”

A door burst open in front of them and a hoard of Hydra soldiers poured out from behind it. Steve leapt in front of her and blocked their immediate gunfire. Natasha ducked for a second until there was a brief lull, then sprang up above the shield and started firing back. All of her precisely aimed bullets hit and the agents started dropping. Steve flung his shield towards them and it dropped one, bouncing off of his head and hitting two others. The last two Natasha dove at, taking them down easily.

“Come on,” she said, stepping over them towards the door they came out of. Steve lifted his finger to his ear again.

“Barton? Stark? _Anyone,_ can you hear me?” Still nothing. Natasha let out a frustrated sigh.

“We’re not going to get anything accomplished just standing here, let’s go.”

“We’re _not_ going in there alone,” he countered. “Let’s go back up, get the others, and-“

“You don’t think they’ll know where we went? Who knows how far down we are. A rocket launcher to the bottom of that thing, and-”

She trailed off, miming an explosion with her hands. Steve considered that but didn’t seem happy.

Natasha heard footsteps coming towards them again, this time from farther down the hall. She huffed impatiently and turned, sprinting through the door without him.

A part of her felt a little guilty. She _was_ technically supposed to follow his instructions when it came to making calls like this. That’s what the team agreed on when they made him the leader of the Avengers three years ago. But he was being unreasonable. How were they supposed to get back up without anyone noticing? The rest of the team would realize something was wrong when neither of them answered.

And yeah, maybe she was already irritated at him. Irritated that he’d brought everything back up moments before a mission, irritated that he’d been kinda an ass to her the last couple hours. Irritated that she’d let herself get into this situation in the first place. He never used to question her like this, never would have stopped in the middle of an exposed hallway like he was just to argue with her.

Actually, he did. Three years ago, right after they became partners. But now, after one _stupid fucking decision_, they were back to that.

That realization was coupled with the one that he hadn’t followed her. He must have met the new waves of soldiers, because she could hear the sounds of fighting over the blaring alarm.

Natasha slowed and glanced around. She was in yet another hallway. There was a dark office next to her and, at the sound of more footsteps thundering in her direction, she slid into it and shut the door. The walls were made of glass but everything was so dimly lit that she could easily slip into the shadows, so she ducked behind a desk, concealing herself completely as a group of probably five or six soldiers passed the room. None of them noticed her.

Once they’d passed she stood, approaching the wall of windows and braving a glance past them. This office faced the large open lab area they’d seen on the security cameras, and she swore under her breath. This place was _huge_. This large lab alone looked to go up probably four stories, and she had no way of knowing if that was the top of the base or if the warehouse was directly above it or not. Not to mention that, across the lab were several levels of glass rooms. Offices and more labs, it seemed.

She was on the ground floor of a multi-story weapons facility. They had no idea if the scepter was here, or what other valuable SHIELD assets were stored beyond this one room. It would take forever to find out, and that would involve taking out every agent they came across. Plus, now that she was getting a better look, she was able to confirm that they _definitely_ had a sizable collection of stolen SHIELD weapons, not just from the Chitauri.

The guilt came flooding back at the sinking realization that Steve was right. They should have gone back up the second their feeds cut out.

Something caught her eye outside of the office she was hidden in. Steve must have gone a different way and he’d ended up stumbling blindly into the giant open space of the lab. Without comms they needed to stay close, and the few Hydra thugs attacking him now were sure to multiply, so she turned on her heel and exited the office.

After sprinting down the hall and turning another corner she found herself inside the lab. Her eyes skimmed the room, trying to find Steve. He was fighting off a few more soldiers on the other side. She lifted her pistol and aimed for one, dropping him and then another from where she’d ducked behind a work bench.

When they were all lying on the ground dead or unconscious Steve glanced up at her. A split second later he flung his shield in her direction, and it bounced off of a pillar behind her and into the head of a Hydra soldier she hadn’t heard. Another one followed him and he lunged at her. Natasha leapt out from her hiding spot and onto the guy’s shoulders, wrapping her thighs tight around his neck and bringing him crashing to the ground.

Natasha sprang to her feet and spun around, but the second she did, she was faced with a wave of soldiers pouring out of the hallway she’d just come from. She scrambled backwards and ducked behind the other side of the work bench, but that just exposed her to the group going at Steve. His shield suddenly flew past her, smacking a guy on its way to attach to his arm.

Natasha jumped up over the edge of the table and aimed both pistols at the group. She emptied them, taking down most of the soldiers, but more just kept coming. She didn’t have time to reload.

“_Natasha!_” She turned to glance at Steve, but her eyes caught what he’d warned her about before they made it to him. One of the Hydra soldiers had reached for a Chitauri gun that had been sitting on a work bench. “Magnets!” he shouted.

_What the hell is he-oh!_

Natasha dropped her pistol to the floor and closed her fingers across her palm, hitting one of the buttons on her gloves. Two little squares glowed blue on her arm, and suddenly Steve’s shield was soaring across the room towards her. She raised her arm and it snapped tightly to it, but the force of it knocked her backwards, the small of her back smacking hard into the side of the work bench.

She lifted it just in time for a beam of blue light to smack into the center of it, the blast launching her into the air. She flew backwards and tried to twist herself around to land on the shield and absorb the impact, but it landed a little sideways and flew off her arm, clattering off to the side as she slammed into the concrete.

Her whole body ached but there was no time to dwell on it. She heard the weapon firing up again and pushed herself to her feet. The guy aimed and fired again, hitting a pillar behind her, which began to crumble. Natasha sprinted out of the way of the falling concrete and ducked out of sight, but that only pissed the guy off more, so he turned to aim the gun at Steve instead. Natasha peeked out from behind the workbench she was hiding behind to see Steve activating the magnets on his own suit.

His shield wasn’t coming. She glanced back and realized it was stuck underneath a large piece of fallen debris.

Natasha leaped out from her hiding spot and sprinted at the soldier with the Chitauri gun. He hit the trigger as soon as she collided with him and his aim flew upwards, shooting several blasts into the concrete ceiling of the lab. There was a loud _crack!_ and, to Natasha’s horror, the spot he’d hit started crumbling.

_This is why terrorists shouldn’t have alien weaponry, god dammit_.

She ripped the gun from the guy’s hand and knocked him out with the butt of it before throwing away from them. She’d had a split thought to keep it, use it to defend herself since she’d lost both pistols somewhere on the other side of the lab, but she didn’t need to. All of the Hydra agents that had been flooding into the lab had suddenly changed direction and were evacuating.

The concrete was falling in chunks now, slamming into the ground, knocking into pillars. Natasha scrambled to her feet to and whipped her head around to find Steve. He’d made it to his shield and yanked it out from underneath the debris, but as soon as he’d attached it back onto his arm, a piece of concrete hit a giant rack of stolen Chitauri weapons not far from him. They exploded into blinding blue energy, and Natasha could only watch helplessly as Steve flung his shield up with just enough time to block himself from the blast. He flew into the air and through the window of an office a few floors up.

Natasha turned to run out of the lab, take cover before the entire damn thing collapsed on top of her, but her path was blocked by a chunk of concrete landing in front of her.

And then all she saw was green, followed by an earth shattering, deafening roar.


	3. Chapter 3

Terror flooded through Natasha, her blood running ice cold through her veins and paralyzing her where she stood. The Hulk roared again, his hands clenched into fists as he blinked around at his surroundings. Then he saw her.

“Bruce,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “Bruce, it’s me, you’re…you’re okay…” He blinked again, his face screwing up in confusion. He snarled, but didn’t make a move towards her. Natasha took a few steps back. “B-Bruce…”

Another piece of concrete fell somewhere behind her, and the Hulk snapped out of it, letting out another deafening roar. Natasha spun around and took off, heading towards the side door she’d seen Steve come through earlier. If she could get out of the open, and hide…

Bruce pounded after her, smashing aside debris and lab equipment as he tried to get to her. She pushed through a set of double doors and sprinted down a hallway, which burst apart seconds after she went through it.

She pushed herself faster, skidding around a corner and down another long hallway. She saw a set of stairs up ahead and turned into it, leaping up the stairs three at a time. There was a landing between each floor, so she hoped the amount of turns would slow Bruce down and put more space between them. She made it up a floor and a half before he pushed himself through the small stairwell.

Natasha didn’t stop, making it up to the third floor and exiting out into a hallway. She sprinted down it and pushed into the first lab she saw, collapsed to the floor, and crawled underneath a work bench, concealing herself in the shadows so that the Hulk couldn’t see her through the glass windows that separated the lab from the hallway.

Natasha brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tight around them and making herself as small as possible. She tried to catch her breath but she was shaking so violently it was nearly impossible. Bruce had been able to control himself during the Battle of New York, but he’d made a _choice_. The only other time she’d seen the Hulk was on the helicarrier, when he’d been taken off guard and scared. Bruce must have been the one to fall through the ceiling (or, for him, the floor), meaning this time wasn’t much different.

She could hear him, the smashing and frustrated growls getting closer. There was a _crash_ behind her and she jumped, shrinking farther back into her hiding spot.

Last time this happened, Thor had come out of nowhere and distracted him, allowing Natasha to get away. She’d also had weapons, and she knew every inch of that helicarrier well enough that it worked to her advantage. But now she’d lost both of her pistols, and none of her knives would be very effective. Neither would her bracelets. Not that her guns would either, but they served as a much better distraction.

The Hulk was getting quieter. He must not have seen her. Natasha took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, before she finally moved and peeked around the desk. The windows of the lab she was in had been shattered, but Bruce was gone.

She crawled across the floor, trying to get close enough to the door to make sure the hall was clear before running. Glass still sliced through her gloves and she stopped herself before she swore out loud, taking in a sharp breath against the pain and wincing as she pulled a large piece out of her palm.

Once she reached the window, she pulled herself to her knees to get a better look into the hallway. She couldn’t tell which direction Bruce had gone, but decided on heading backwards, back past the stairwell, assuming he hadn’t also doubled back after breaking the window of the lab she’d been in and a couple others along the way. However, as she passed the stairwell, something sparkling on the floor caught her eye.

_Glass_. The floor was littered with shards of it.

_Shit_.

Before she could turn back around, Bruce came crashing through one of the labs and into the hallway. She could see, through the windows into the room, that there was a trail of rubble behind him: destroyed lab equipment, broken glass, concrete walls crumbling to the floor. Natasha scrambled backwards, the panic rising up in her once again. Her foot crunched down on a piece of glass and Bruce whipped his head around at her, noticing her for the first time.

“B-Bruce-“ she said in a small voice. He growled. “It’s…it’s me. It’s Natasha. You know me. I’m n-not gonna hurt you.”

He snarled in response and took a step towards her, but didn’t charge. Natasha ignored the voice in her head screaming at her to run, and kept herself where she was.

The Hulk’s face contorted, looking so much like Bruce but not at all. He was thinking. Processing. Calming down.

“Good. That’s good.” He narrowed his eyes and lifted his arm. Reaching for her. “You know me?”

He nodded.

Natasha took a long breath and held it in her chest, reaching out to meet his giant hand. He flinched when her skin touched his, but he stayed calm. She ran her fingertips lightly over the rough green skin of one of his fingers and across the back of his hand, her heart beating wildly in her chest, then lifted her eyes to meet his. He blinked at her, and she recognized Bruce behind his eyes as the Hulk started to calm down.

Suddenly she heard footsteps behind her, approaching rapidly, thumping hard against the concrete. Bruce snapped out of it, lifting his gaze upwards just in time for Steve’s shield to smack him in the face.

He roared, the sound practically bursting her eardrums.

“Nat, run!” Steve shouted. Bruce grabbed Natasha’s wrist where hand was still resting on his and whipped her to the side. She crashed through a window, then another one. But instead of landing on the floor of the lab, she kept falling, heading straight for the ground floor.

Natasha gasped, her stomach lurching, but a split second later something hard rammed into her. Whatever it was wrapped tightly around her midsection, and when she twisted her head around she noticed the wings protruding out from either side. _Sam_. He fell a few more feet before adjusting to her weight and shooting upwards. Her gut twisted at the change in direction and she gripped the strap of his wing suit tightly with her left hand. She attempted to wrap her other arm around him, but her shoulder screamed in pain, so she left it tucked against him instead.

Sam didn’t let her go until they were well out of the warehouse, almost to the gate they’d jumped over to get in earlier. He sat her down on the pavement and his wings folded back into their pack with a snap.

“You alright?” he asked kneeling down in front of her, and Natasha nodded.

“Steve…he’s still-“

“Thor and Stark went after Bruce.”

Natasha nodded again. Now that she was away from the chaos she could feel herself going into shock, suddenly overcome with uncontrollable shaking. Her heart thumped wildly against her chest, making her nauseous, and the breaths coming out in sharp pants didn’t quite give her as much as air as she needed.

She wrapped her good arm tightly around herself, only vaguely aware of Sam’s wings flinging out again as he stood and took off into the air. It was silent for a few seconds until she heard quick footsteps approaching and Clint’s face loomed over her.

“Tash, you okay?” She just stared at him as he knelt in front of her, taking her face in his hands. “What the _fuck_ happened? You guys went quiet and then a few minutes later the floor just…_exploded_…”

Natasha tried to find the words to explain, but couldn’t. Instead she just leaned forward, burying her face into his shoulder. He dropped his hands and wrapped his arms tightly around her and she shook violently, gasping for a deep enough breath to get a sufficient amount of air into her lungs.

She heard the Hulk roar again in the distance, and even as far away as he was, she flinched.

Clint stood, bringing her with him. She winced when he jostled her shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s get back to the jet.”

She wanted to protest. They needed to clear out the rest of the Hydra agents. Take back all of the stolen SHIELD weapons. Get whatever intel they had on their computer system. But the second she opened her mouth to tell him, the lab exploded.

Clint tucked her against him, turning his back to the warehouse and shielding them from the blast. The ground shook and she could feel the heat pouring out from the lab. Once the initial explosion was over she pulled herself away from Clint and turned back towards the warehouse.

The entire thing was on fire. She reached over and grabbed Clint’s arm, her mouth dropping open in horror.

Steve was still down there.

“Clint-“ she managed to choke out, squeezing her fingers into his arm. He backed them up a few steps, raising his free hand to his ear.

“Rogers! _Somebody_-“

A blur of red suddenly landed in front of them with a _clank._ Iron Man stood in front of them, eyes glowing.

“_Is it just me or is it a little hot out?_” Tony quipped before reaching out, pulling each of them under an arm, and shooting off into the sky.

“Tony, where’s-“

“_Wilson got Rogers out_,” he explained as he flew over the forest towards the jet. Relief flooded through Natasha despite - for a second time - being disoriented from being suddenly flown through the air. “_Thor knocked out Banner._”

They landed in front of the jet and Jarvis opened the ramp for them. Clint grabbed Natasha when Tony let go and she stumbled, holding her upright, helping her to one of the seats in the middle of the jet. She collapsed into it, leaning back and closing her eyes, reaching out with her good arm to hold her bad shoulder.

“What the _hell_ was that!?”

Steve suddenly stormed into the jet the second he and Sam landed just outside of it. Natasha kept her eyes closed, guilt bubbling up inside her along with her lingering irritation from earlier.

“Cap-“

Steve ignored Clint’s protests and came to a halt in front of her. “Romanoff, look at me.”

“Yes, _Captain?_” she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. She opened her eyes and they flitted up to meet his angry glare. He was _seething_.

“I told you to wait. I told you we _needed backup_.”

“And I told _you_ to let me assess the situation first.”

“You didn’t _tell me_ anything! You took off against my direct order-“

“Your _direct order_!?”

“Uh oh,” Clint muttered under his breath from the cockpit. Natasha stood abruptly, ignoring Clint and the pain that shot through her shoulder. Steve took a step back, and she got way too much satisfaction out of the flash of hesitation that shot through his eyes.

“In case you forgot, you can’t pull rank on me anymore, _Captain_.”

“I mean,” Tony cut in. “Technically-“

“Stay out of this,” Natasha snapped.

“We failed this mission, Romanoff,” Steve fired back, ignoring Tony completely. “And it was because you ran off instead of listening to me.”

“God, you are so _dramatic!_” Natasha replied, rolling her eyes. “The scepter wasn’t there.”

“But an entire undercover Hydra lab was! And now we have no intel. Nothing recovered. No arrests, no one to get information out of.”

“I’m not the one that blew the place up!”

He ignored that. “You almost got yourself killed. Just to…what? Prove a point?”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t reply to that. This was getting dangerous. _Personal_. Instead she just smirked at him.

“As fun as it is getting scolded by Captain America-“ Steve tensed, his brows furrowing further. “-I’m pretty sure I dislocated my fucking shoulder when you let Bruce throw me out a window. So can we do this later?”

It was’t his fault. Not really. He’d seen her in front of the Hulk and tried to distract him so she could get to safety. She wasn’t upset about it. But the pettiness in her did enjoy the way the anger suddenly melted into pure guilt and concern as his eyes fell on her shoulder.

“You…are you…” He glanced back up at her. “Come here, I’ll-“

“I’ll wait for Thor.” Natasha turned away from him, taking a seat in the chair just behind Clint’s.

The jet was deafeningly silent, nothing but the sound of heavy footsteps as Steve stomped back down the ramp filling the air. Sam followed. Tony busied himself at the other end of it, taking off the Iron Man suit.

“So…” Clint breathed, glancing sideways at her from the cockpit. “That was-“

“Drop it,” Natasha cut him off lowly. She was _not_ in the mood to get into this with right now Clint now. Maybe she’d tell him eventually, but for now all she wanted was to go back to the tower, lock herself in her room and take a long, hot shower.

She’s also love to punch something right now. Or someone. Steve in particular, actually.

Instead she was stuck with picking glass out of her hand that she hadn’t realized was still in there. It was a good distraction, and it gave her an explanation for why her eyes were stinging.

If anyone _asked_, of course.

Thor arrived not long after. He had an unconscious Bruce with him, shirtless and the bottom of his pants ripped to shreds. Apparently he’d hit the Hulk with enough lightning that it had knocked him out, causing him to morph back into himself. He’d flown him out and Sam had grabbed Steve just as another giant piece of concrete had fallen, falling into whatever had caused the lab to explode.

Thor popped Natasha’s shoulder back into place, which thankfully reduced the pain significantly. She then found a first aid kit and retreated to one of the side alcoves of the jet to get the remaining shards of glass out of her palms and wrap them up to stop the bleeding.

When they got back to the tower, Natasha was the first one off the jet. She headed straight for her room, ignoring Steve when he called after her that they’d be debriefing in an hour.

She took her time, standing under the boiling spray of the water long enough that, once she finally stepped out of the steaming bathroom, she didn’t have much time to get back upstairs. She re-wrapped her hands and found one of Clint’s old long-sleeved t-shirts, pulling it on carefully so as not to jostle her shoulder too much. Then she threw on a pair of extra-tight yoga pants, because she was still pissed off at Steve and wanted him to suffer.

When she finally finished dressing and made it back upstairs, she was the last one in the conference room. Everyone had changed besides Steve, who was sitting at the end of the conference table, sulking and tapping around on a tablet. He’d discarded the top half of his uniform, leaving him in a light grey Under Armor t-shirt that was at _least_ two sizes too small.

Natasha briefly wondered if some of her pettiness had rubbed off on him and he was doing the same thing to her that she was doing to him. She averted her gaze as he glanced up at her and took a seat next to Clint.

“Sooo, that was a disaster,” Tony said finally. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You can say that again,” Sam muttered. “What happened after we lost the signal?”

“I suggested we go back up-“

“And then a security guard saw us, set off an alarm, and we were ambushed,” Natasha finished cooly, cutting Steve off. He let out an irritated huff, which she ignored. “It would have taken us too long to get back up.”

“But if we had-“

“Hey Mom and Dad, we don’t need a rematch, okay?” Tony interrupted. Natasha glared at him but didn’t argue. “This place looked huge. And functional.”

“It was,” Steve answered. He let out a long sigh. “They had Chitauri weapons, a _lot _of them. And if they had those they probably had a lot of other SHIELD tech.”

“One of them tried to use a Chitauri gun. When I tackled him he ended up hitting the ceiling with it. That’s when everything started caving in.”

“And when Banner fell through,” Clint added.

Natasha glanced over at Bruce. He was sitting at the end of the table, staring down at his hands folded on top of it. He’d been silent the entire time.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, lifting his gaze to meet hers, guilt swirling in his eyes. “Natasha, I…I couldn’t control it, I-“

“It’s okay,” she insisted, cutting him off. He sighed. “Seriously. That fall would have killed you.”

“How did you calm m- _him_ down?” he asked suddenly, frowning up at her.

“I don’t know.” Natasha shrugged with her good shoulder. “You listened to me. And then when I touched your hand, _you_ started coming back…I don’t know why.”

Tony snorted. Natasha’s eyes flicked over to him, annoyed. “What?”

He didn’t answer, so she glanced around at the rest of the team. Sam, Thor, and Clint didn’t seem to have any reaction to Tony’s outburst, but Steve was staring at the table, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were bright white. When her eyes fell on Bruce again, he wasn’t looking at her anymore.

“Are we sure they didn’t have the scepter?” Sam asked finally.

“We would have known when the place exploded,” Thor answered. “The scepter is powerful, it would have created a much larger reaction.”

“So we’re back to square one,” Steve sighed irritably.

“Not _exactly_,” Sam replied slowly. “This place was hidden and wasn’t adding up to it’s SHIELD records. Now we know what patterns to look for, and we know that these underground labs exist.”

“_Thank_ you, Sam,” Natasha said with an extra sweet smile. He raised his hands.

“I’m not getting involved, don’t even try.” The corner of her mouth curved up in what was _almost_ a real smile. Almost.

“We did knock out a pretty big stash of dangerous weapons,” Clint added to back up Sam.

“And although we didn’t find the scepter or any additional information, we can still cross this location off our list,” Thor said.

“This _was_ our list,” Tony muttered under his breath. “But now I can have Jarvis consider all of that while he combs through the SHIELD files.”

“_Already considered, Sir,_” Jarvis answered happily.

“Perfect.” He clapped his hands together and stood. “I’m hungry and I got shit to do. Until next time.” He nodded his head once at the group and left.

Bruce left too, and Thor and Sam hung back with Steve. Natasha stood immediately, leaving the room without a second glance, even though she could feel Steve’s eyes on her. Clint followed her out of the room and into the large open lab. She crossed into Bruce’s and opened cabinets until she founded what she needed: pain meds and a sling.

“Want help?” She nodded and, _only_ because it was Clint, let him wrap the sling around her good shoulder. “When are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

“I dislocated my shoulder, that’s what,” she replied. Clint was watching her, his eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You and Rogers don’t fight like that.”

Natasha averted her gaze, wordlessly heading out the room again and exiting the lab. Clint pushed himself off of the counter and quickly followed.

“He was trying to tell me what to do,” she said finally, once he’d caught up with her.

“That’s his _job_.”

“Well, he was being a dick about it.”

Clint rolled his eyes. Natasha hopped up the steps to the balcony to the bar that overlooked the large common area. She took a seat on one of the stools while Clint dug below it for a glass. He waited until he’d filled it with water and slid it across the bar to say, “You still have feelings for him, don’t you?”

Natasha groaned. She turned to him, frantically glancing behind her into the labs and common area - all empty - before glaring at Clint. “Do _not_ say that.”

“Why not? You do.”

“It sounds so-“

“What, true? Would you rather me say you’re in l-“

“I will _murder_ _you_,” she hissed, effectively cutting him off. He responded with a smug smile, leaning forward onto the bar. He took the bottle of pills from her bandaged hands, twisted it open, and dumped a couple onto his hand.

“Something happened between you two,” he said, handing them to her.

Natasha tensed; the average person wouldn’t have noticed, but Clint knew her too well. She didn’t want to tell him. She knew how he’d react, and besides…it was none of his damn business.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit out loud how shitty of a person she was.

She tried to stall, tossing the pain pills in her mouth and taking several long gulps of water.She wished it was vodka.

“We…” She hesitated, letting out a long sigh and closing her eyes. She told Clint everything. _Everything_. And now that he knew there was something to tell, he wouldn’t give up until she gave in. There was no way out of it. _Shit._ “We had a…moment.”

“A moment,” Clint repeated flatly. Natasha opened her eyes again and met his. He was watching her carefully.

"Well....several moments,” she muttered lowly. “Consecutively." His lips curved upwards, and she winced. "Don't give me that look."

"When the _hell_ did this happen!?"

“A couple months ago. And keep your damn voice down.” Clint was still grinning stupidly at her. She wanted to punch it off his face. “It was stupid, okay? Just a…moment of weakness.”

"Several moments," Clint replied with a smirk. Natasha shot him a glare that would terrify anyone else. “You and I both know you don’t make stupid mistakes like that.”

“Well, this time I did.”

“You regret it?”

“Yes.” Natasha let out a frustrated sigh and leaned the elbow of her good arm on the counter, covering her face with her hand. “No,” she muttered into her palms.

“You just _wish_ you did.”

If Clint noticed her tense, he didn’t make it obvious. She hated how right he was.

“Get out of my head,” she mumbled. She slid off of her stool and turned away, desperate to get out of the open and lock herself in her room again. Clint followed her. Of course.

“Want my opinion?” he asked, hopping down the stairs after her.

“No.”

“I think you’re being an idiot.” Natasha shot him a dirty look. “If he makes you happy, what’s holding you back? You des-“

“Don’t.” Natasha spun around, her heart tightening in her chest. She stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the coffee he’d drank that morning on his breath, and lowered her voice. “I felt like shit about myself and I did something stupid and selfish to someone who de_serves_ not to be used like that. So don’t tell me-“ Her voice cracked and she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Just…don’t.”

“Fine.” Clint held his hands up, his expression fading into something that was too close to pity for her comfort. “But I still think you’re being an idiot.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and turned on her heel.

“Go parent your own children, Barton.”

Avengers Tower was quietest in the early morning. Tony, if he wasn’t still awake from the night before, was usually either passed out in his penthouse until late morning or locked, alone, in his lab. Bruce wasn’t a late sleeper, but Steve knew he wouldn’t run into him until at least mid-morning. Same with Thor. Sam had headed home the night they’d arrived back from Austria, needing to get back to his “real job,” as he’d put it. Clint had left as well, not long after Sam.

And Natasha…Steve knew she didn’t wake up early unless it was necessary. Or, before everything went to shit, unless he dragged her out to the gym or on a run or to breakfast. She preferred to stay up late and sleep in, which was exactly what Steve was counting on.

They hadn’t spoken since the debrief of their last mission, when she’d stormed out of the room with Clint. That was two days ago, and she’d since become a ghost around the tower. He’d only seen her once, the previous afternoon, when he’d wandered upstairs to discuss going through Jarvis’ intel with Tony. She’d been sitting on a chair in Bruce’s lab, the two of them engaged in what looked like a serious conversation. It caused a burning irritation and jealousy to flare up in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t been anticipating, and that was enough to make him abandon his original plan and head down to the gym instead to destroy a few punching bags. The feeling was foreign and uncomfortable, and that in itself was enough to cause him to get angrier at himself over anything else.

Tony had made a few passing jokes about Banner, and how he apparently had a _thing_ for Natasha. A year ago, Steve probably would have ignored him. After all, Tony wasn’t necessarily someone anyone trusted with that kind of information. Plus, Steve wasn’t selfish enough to get so irrationally irritated about something like that. But after what had happened the other day - remembering the look on the Hulk’s giant, angry features as Natasha effectively calmed him down, and Bruce’s reaction after the fact - something in him had just snapped. He was avoiding Banner as much as he was Natasha. _And_ Tony, to avoid any more childish jokes.

So, when he’d woken up to pouring rain and was therefore was confined to the gym for his morning workout, he’d put a great deal of thought into the sleeping habits of the rest of the tower’s current inhabitants. With all of them living in one space he knew he had to be up early, and had gotten himself out of bed and downstairs to the giant facility by five, just to ensure his peace and quiet.

Except, despite his planning, he was greeted with the sound of music - something loud and current - blaring from the gym’s stereo system. He groaned internally when his suspicions were - much to his dismay - proven true, and turned the corner to see Natasha.

He was about to turn and leave (what was a little rain? Better than ice…) but stopped when she spun, knee lifted and arms raised above her head, then twisted around and leapt in the air, all to the beat of the music.

He’d never seen her dance before. She’d mentioned it, once or twice, when they’d first begun training together, but that was it. It was absolutely mesmerizing, seeing her twist and turn like that, hair half pulled up into a small bun on the top of her head, in leggings and a cropped t-shirt and black ballet slippers. He’d seen her fight, of course, and he always assumed they were one in the same; but actually watching her move like that, so gracefully and effortlessly, made him pause, suddenly distracted from why he was avoiding her in the first place.

And then she opened her eyes in the middle of a spin, spotted him, and stopped dead in her tracks.

“Sorry,” Steve spat out quickly. He averted his gaze and gestured halfheartedly towards the door he’d just come though. “Sorry. I, uh…didn’t think anyone would…I’ll go.”

“Jarvis?” The music stopped abruptly, throwing them into silence. Steve nodded awkwardly and turned away. “You don’t have to leave.”

She said it so softly that anyone with normal hearing wouldn’t have caught it. He paused and glanced back over at her.

“It’s fine, really. I’ll just…go for a run instead.”

“It’s pouring rain,” she replied drily. Steve just shrugged.

“Won’t have to shower after.” She almost smiled. Almost. “You sure?”

“I don’t own the gym, Rogers. It’s fine.”

Natasha turned away from him, padding across the slick wood floors to her bag, then bent down and picked up the bottle of water that was sitting next to it. Steve hesitated but still stepped farther into the room, desperately trying to concentrate on absolutely _anything_ other than the way she tilted her head back to gulp down the water, the way her sweat-dampened hair stuck to her forehead, and the way her biceps moved when she twisted the cap back on the bottle.

“I’ve, uh…never seen you dance before,” he said finally, after a long, awkward moment of silence. “You’re good.”

“I should hope so, I trained under Yuri Grigorovich for the Bolshoi in Moscow,” she replied flatly, her back turned to him. She dropped the water bottle back into her bag and plopped down onto the floor to pull her slippers off, replacing them with tennis shoes. Steve busied himself with grabbing a roll of athletic tape from a bench several feet away and began wrapping his hands.

“You dance the way you fight,” he said, once the silence became too much. Natasha stood again and shot him a look out of the corner of her eye, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully for a few seconds.

“I fight like I dance,” she corrected. “Why do you think they taught me ballet in the first place?”

Natasha turned away again, reaching down to grab the strap of her bag. Without another word she slung it over her shoulder and brushed past him towards the door.

“You don’t have to leave either, you know,” Steve blurted out, before he had the sense to just let her go. She stopped, but didn’t look back. “And I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replied cooly. Steve let out a frustrated sigh.

“No, it’s not. I was an ass. I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.”

“It’s _fine_, Steve,” she said again, but her voice had softened.

“Is this how it’s going to be now?” he asked, before his brain caught up with him and told him not to. She stiffened and let out a long breath.

“Steve-“

“You’re my best friend, Nat.” It came out much more desperate than it should have, and Steve paused, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Natasha turned her head, back still to him, but didn’t meet his gaze. “I mean, I have Sam, but he’s not always around. And he’s…it’s different. You’re…I mean…just because we made one stupid mistake doesn’t mean we can’t-“

“It wasn’t a mistake.” Natasha turned back towards him, and even though it took her a few seconds, her eyes finally flitted up to meet his. She was trying to keep her expression emotionless, but he could tell she was struggling. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry too.”

Steve could only nod, his breath hitching in his lungs as her eyes, wide and swimming with half-hidden emotions he couldn’t identify, bore into his.

“And…” She hesitated, averting her gaze to stare at the floor instead. “You’re my best friend too,” she breathed softly. “Don’t tell Barton.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his again, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. Steve returned her smile, but even though the weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he could still sense the tension between them.

“I won’t.”

“Ihaven’t slept yet, so…I’m gonna…” She trailed off and tilted her head back towards the door. Steve nodded and she gave him a small smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes before turning away again. “Oh, and stop breaking the punching bags,” she called back as she went through the door. “You’re getting sand everywhere.”


	4. Chapter 4

**NOVIGRAD, SOKOVIA | APRIL 2015**

The next several weeks brought on more Hydra raids, none of which resulted in finding the scepter, but all going arguably much smoother than the first one. Natasha played nice with Steve and didn’t question him, not even once, solely to avoid another argument. They were getting along fine, even if it was mostly due to the fact that they avoided each other outside of missions.

She _hated_ it. She knew she was being awful and cold towards him. And she missed him, too. She missed hanging out with him, missed watching movies and ordering takeout and sparring and working out together. But that was what had gotten them into this situation in the first place, wasn’t it? Avoiding him was safer. Better for both of them.

She focused on Bruce instead, the two of them learning how to effectively calm down the Hulk whenever he was needed on a mission. It was much easier now, not having to rely on him being able to calm himself down after a fight. They’d practiced it a few times, contained in one of the towers practice rooms with Steve, Thor and Tony on standby just in case it didn’t work.

It had every time, and in the meantime, she got to know him much better than she had after the Battle of New York. She learned a lot about him and gave him almost nothing in return, which made her feel a bit guilty, but he was easy to talk to and they got along. He told her about the gamma accident, how they’d stupidly been trying to recreate the Super Soldier Serum. How he’d run for years until the government had tracked him down, and what had _really_ happened that night in Harlem, beyond all the bullshit they’s released in the papers about some kind of government training exercise. He also told her about Betty Ross, who he’d planned on marrying until the accident, and who he hadn’t spoken to since 2008 when he’d disappeared again.

It helped her not feel so alone, at least. With Tony usually busy or sleeping odd hours, Clint staying at home and only coming in when they needed him, and Steve avoiding her and spending most of his down time in the gym or with Thor, she didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

After about a month, however, they got a promising hit on a Hydra base in Novigrad, Sokovia. The country was in the middle of a brutal civil war, politically charged with frequent rioting and violence. It was easy for an organization like Hydra to fit in there, since there was so much going on that no one paid any attention to them. Jarvis’ intel from their database of SHIELD files matched up with their lead, so they decided to pursue it as soon as possible.

“They’re going to know we’re coming as soon as we break through their defenses,” Steve started as they flew over the city. He paused to pull on his helmet. “We have to get to that castle. Stark, you fly ahead, shut down any security measures they have. Banner, hang back unless we need you. Nat, Clint, and Thor, concentrate on thinning out the ground resistance. I’ll focus on the main gate, get it open so the non-flyers can get through.”

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” Tony called from the back of the jet. Iron Man’s helmet snapped shut over his face with a _clank_. It powered on, eyes glowing, and he glanced over at Thor. “_Ready, Pointbreak?”_

Thor gripped Mjolnir tightly in his hand and nodded just as the ramp of the quinjet lowered. They both hopped out off of it, taking off towards the base.

Clint landed the jet on the ground a few seconds later. Natasha slid her freshly loaded pistols in their holsters, then tapped the button on her glove to charge her batons. Her suit lit up, casting a blue haze over that corner of the jet. Steve activated the center console of the jet and it parted to reveal his bike. He strapped his shield onto his back and hopped onto it.

“Hey, Rogers.” Steve paused and glanced up at her. It made her heart race and she suddenly wished she hadn’t said anything. She offered him a half-hearted smirk. “Don’t die.”

His lips curved up into a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You either,” he said softly, and then he was revving the engine and zooming out of the jet.

“Ready?” Clint asked behind her. She reached for his quiver hanging on the wall and handed it to him.

“Always.” He grinned and they both headed out after Steve.

The woods were quiet at first, nothing but the distant sound of Steve’s bike and the crunch of the snow beneath their boots.

And then Hydra opened fire.

They both leapt behind trees for cover, Clint quickly reaching behind him for an arrow. He shot it towards the source of the gunfire - a bunker that was camouflaged by the snow - and it detonated a split second later, but that didn’t stop the attack. Natasha focused on group of soldiers pouring out from behind a second bunker, taking them down from behind the tree one by one with perfectly aimed shots. Once there was a lull in the gunfire she took off, zigzagging around the trees to dodge the occasional bullet, then leapt into the remainder of the group.

She took the men down easily, dodging their attacks, then hopped up onto the jeep that had brought up the rear. She elbowed the driver in the face, and he had just enough time to grunt with pain before she electrocuted him with her wrist and shoved him out of the car. Then she slid into his seat, immediately backing up into the last few soldiers, before slamming her foot onto the gas and shooting forward.

She found Clint a couple hundred yards away, engaged hand-to-hand with a rogue Hydra soldier. She aimed, shot the guy in the knee, and he crumpled to the ground, allowing her to screech to a halt in front of Clint.

“Need a ride?” she asked with a smirk. Clint climbed up into the back, taking position on the raised platform above her. The second he did something whizzed past the jeep and he ducked. It hit a bunker ahead of them and the thing exploded into dust and snow and bright blue energy.

_“You guys got more on your tail!”_ Tony called in their ear.

“_Where are all these guys coming from!?” _Steve replied. He must not have made it much farther than she and Clint had, because she could still hear the roar of his motorcycle up ahead. She could also hear the rumble of more jeeps, so she stomped on the gas and yanked the steering wheel sideways to point them towards the gate.

“_Banner, any chance you’re feeling a little moody today?”_ Tony asked. He flew past them, shooting at the group coming towards them with his repulsors.

Bruce sighed. “_Yeah, I’m comin’._”

“_Alright, new plan!_” Steve called. “_There’s too many of them. Everyone head towards that front gate. We need to get through there first.”_

Natasha sped up, swerving between the trees down what looked a road, leaving Clint up top to clear their path. They were ambushed from behind, two more jeeps gaining speed, as well as a swarm of Hydra soldiers in flying suits similar to Tony’s. Clint swore under his breath and spun around, aiming behind them instead.

“_Barton, Romanoff, watch your six!”_

Steve swerved in front of them and then twisted the bike around, zooming past them in the opposite direction. Natasha ducked from a few bullets then whipped her pistol out, aiming at one of the flying Hydra soldier that had flown up next to the jeep.

Blue lights streaked past them, courtesy of Tony, knocking out a few of the flyers, but there were too many of them. One grabbed ahold of the driver’s side of the jeep and reached for Natasha, but she elbowed him in the face to force him back. He held on, so she twisted and kicked him in the face, knocking the door open in the process. It sent him flying away from her so she concentrated on the road again, letting Clint deal with the others.

Tony streaked past them, working on taking out one of the approaching watchtowers, just as one of the jeeps caught up with theirs. The shooter inside of it aimed at Clint but missed, and was quickly taken out by Thor, who landed on the jeep’s platform with a _thud_ and shoved him off of the side. A second later he was gone, shooting upwards into the air and landing on the top of the tower, effectively taking out a handful of soldiers and then leaping back down to the ground.

With the path relatively clear Natasha floored it, careening past the fight towards the castle. Bruce thundered by, ripping through the onslaught of soldiers, but then Natasha noticed the blockade in the middle of the road.

_Shit._

“Get ready to jump!” she called behind her to Clint. She didn’t have time to wait for a reply. She slammed on the breaks and wrenched the steering wheel sideways. The jeep spun around, hitting the blockade from the side and she jumped, extending her foot to kick a soldier in the face before landing cleanly on the other side.

Steve and Tony zoomed past the rest of the group, heading towards the approaching gate, Tony blasting it apart with a single missile from his suit, while Natasha hung back, concentrating on the swarm of soldiers surrounding them. She reached behind her and whipped out her batons from their pack on the back of her belt, then spun around and knocked them into the knees of two soldiers. They dropped simultaneously, so she moved on to another group, elbowing one of them in the face and then hitting him right in the chest with one baton while smacking another in the shoulder with the other.

She hadn’t been sure about electrified batons when Tony had showed them to her a few weeks ago, but _damn_ were they handy.

“_Shit!”_ Tony called suddenly.

“_Language!”_ Steve fired back sternly. Natasha snorted out a laugh and opened fire on another group approaching her “_Jarvis, what’s the view from upstairs?”_

_ “The central building is protected by some kind of energy field,”_ Jarvis supplied. “_Strucker’s technology goes well beyond any other Hydra base we’ve taken.”_

With the handful of soldiers that had tried to ambush her down, Natasha shoved her batons back into their case and headed through the gate while Clint veered off in another direction. She took down oncoming resistance easily, emptying one of her pistols and using a few stingers from her bracelets for the rest.

_ “Loki’s scepter must be here!”_ Thor answered with a gleeful growl. He wasn’t far ahead of her, effortlessly taking down the soldiers one after another with his hammer. “_Strucker couldn’t mount this defense without it. At long last.”_

Natasha took off towards yet another jeep, ripping a grenade out of her belt. She pulled the pin and tossed it into the back of it, then dove out of the way before it exploded. She used the distraction to leap up onto one of their posts - just a small one, build up with rocks and sand bags - and elbowed a soldier in the face. He fell off of his pedestal and tumbled to the ground. She followed, landing much more gracefully than the guy had, curling into a summersault and hopping back up to her feet. Then she moved on to another group, pulling herself up onto one of the men’s shoulders. She used the leverage to fall towards a second one, wrapping her arm around his neck and yanking them both to the ground. Then she twisted up, reaching for her batons again, before she realized they weren’t getting up.

“‘At long last’ is lasting a little long, boys,” she panted. She heard gunshots behind her so she twisted around and saw a soldier back up on the pedestal. She aimed her pistol at him and shot out his knee. He fell to the ground with a scream.

“_Yeah, I think we lost the element of surprise,” _Clint quipped in agreement over the sound of more explosions.

“_Wait a second…no one else is gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said_ language?” Tony asked.

“_I know!”_ Steve shot back. He zoomed past Natasha on his bike towards one of the jeeps. Then he hopped up, flipping backwards over the front of it, and using the momentum to fling it at the oncoming vehicle, effectively knocking it off of the road and sending its occupants flying in all directions. Natasha rolled her eyes. _Dramatic._ “_It just slipped out._”

“_Sir, the city is taking fire,”_ Jarvis interrupted.

“_Well, we know Strucker’s not gonna worry about civilian casualties,” _Tony muttered thoughtfully. _“Send in the Iron Legion._”

An army of legionnaire robots jetted past overhead, heading back towards Novigrad, as Natasha took down a few more soldiers with her Widow’s Bites. As she wrestled another to the ground Clint cried out from several yards away and a projectile shot past her. She whipped her head around just in time to see him fall to the ground.

_“_Clint!”

She hopped up and took off towards him, her heart suddenly thudding hard in her chest. He _wasn’t getting up_. She drew attention to herself, and the bunker that had shot at Clint saw her. She dodged its shots but not by much, weaving back and forth through the trees to make herself harder to hit.

“_We have an enhanced in the field-_” Steve said, but she cut him off.

“Clint’s hit!”

She slid to the ground next to Clint, ducking under the fire from the bunker. There was a giant hole in his side, bleeding profusely into the snow, reeking of burned flesh. She reached into her belt to find her first aid kit, but couldn’t focus under fire.

“Somebody wanna deal with that bunker!?” she asked irritably. A split second later Bruce barreled past her and straight into the structure. It exploded into a cloud of smoke and debris. “Thank you.”

With Bruce taking care of the rest of the soldiers she concentrated fully on Clint, who was groaning in pain beneath her. She covered the gaping wound with a gauze pad then pulled out a syringe, and he gasped when she plunged it into his neck.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She dropped the syringe and reached out to turn his face towards her. He blinked up at her, his eyes glazed over.

“T-Tasha-“ he gasped, then squeezed his eyes shut. “T-tell Laura-“

“Shut it. You’ll be fine.” She tapped her fingers against his temple and his eyes flew open again. “Good. Stay awake. It’s just a scratch.”

“_Stark!_” Steve panted. She could hear him fighting not far from them, his shield flying through the air with a metallic hum. “_We need to…get inside…!”_

“_I’m closing in.” _He paused, and the communications feed was filled with the sound of repulsor blasts. “_Jarvis, am I…closing in?_ _Do you see a power source for that shield?”_

_ “There’s a pathway beneath the north tower.”_

_ “Great. I wanna poke it with something.”_ There were distant explosions and Natasha lifted her eyes up from Clint just long enough to see the castle above them light up with blue holographic projections before there was another _boom_ and the shield disappeared. “_Drawbridge is down, people!”_

Thor landed in front of Steve, knocking out the surrounding Hydra thugs. Clint groaned in pain again, and she dropped her eyes back down to him.

_“The enhanced?_” he called.

“_He’s a blur,”_ Steve answered. “_Of all the new players we’ve faced, I’ve never seen this. In fact…still haven’t.”_

_“_Clint’s hit pretty bad, guys. We’re gonna need evac,” she said into her comms.

“_I can get Barton to the jet. The sooner we’re gone, the better_,” Thor volunteered. _“You and Stark secure the scepter._”

“_Copy that,”_ Steve replied.

“Thor’s gonna come take you back to the jet, okay?” She said to Clint, tuning out the rest of Steve and Thor’s conversation to focus on him again. He nodded, nothing more than a violent shudder of his head. There was a deafening _clang_ followed by an explosion and energy spread through the air that made her skin crawl.

“_Find the scepter!”_ Thor called.

“_And for gosh’s sake, watch your language!”_ Tony added.

Steve sighed. “_That’s not goin’ away anytime soon.”_

_ “Hell no.”_

There was a _thud_ and the ground shook as Thor suddenly landed beside her. “What happened?”

“Hit by one of the bunkers. I’ve already given him an antiseptic and tried to stop the bleeding, but it’s not doing much,” she supplied. She pulled her comm link out of her ear to ignore Tony’s banter over the line and stood. “Make sure that stays covered, hook him up to an IV when you get to the jet. He needs fluids.”

“Do not worry, Natasha. He’s in good hands.”

With that Thor bent down and carefully picked him up like he was no heavier than a feather before lifting off into the air.

Natasha shoved her earpiece back into her ear and glanced around her. There were still a few stragglers, but NATO had followed them up to the castle and was taking care of the remaining Hydra soldiers.

“We’re locked down out here.”

“_Then get to Banner. Time for a lullaby,” _Steve ordered flatly. She resisted rolling her eyes at his tone, instead turning around to find Bruce. He wasn’t too far, and without a current threat, he was ripping apart an already destroyed tank in a clearing that probably hadn’t been there before they showed up.

“Hey big guy,” she said carefully, announcing her presence. Bruce whipped his head around and snarled at her. She flinched but held her ground. “Sun’s getting real low…”

He growled again, baring his teeth, but instead of backing away she kneeled slowly. The section of rock she was on was higher than where he stood so she was almost eye-level with him. He turned away from her a bit, but still watched her carefully. She took a deep breath and pulled off her glove - this still made her nervous, regardless of how many times they’d practiced it and used it in the field over the last several weeks - and held her hand up. And then she waited.

That seemed to click with him, and he huffed angrily, but began to approach her. She turned her hand so that her palm was up, and he stared at it for a second before his eyes lifted to meet hers. He squinted at her, suddenly seeming very much like Bruce behind the Hulk’s beady eyes.

He raised his hand and copied her, his palm up, and rested it on top of hers. She hesitated, gauging his reaction. His eyes dropped down to watch her slowly slide her hand down one of his giant fingers. Then she brought it up to brush against his wrist and down the middle of his palm, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers again.

The corner of her mouth twitched upwards as he watched her, his face twitching uncomfortably. Then he fell away, turning to stumble across the clearing.

“_Baron Strucker. Hydra’s number one thug,”_ came Steve’s voice in her ear suddenly. Natasha turned away from the Hulk while he morphed back into Bruce and breathed out a long sigh.

Of course. It was just like Steve to accidentally ruin a moment, always reminding her that he was at the forefront of her mind, whether he was aware of it or not.

A moment of _what_, though? Sure, she and Bruce had gotten a lot closer the last few weeks - she would even go so far as to say they were _friends_ \- and she knew he had feelings for her. Tony had made that clear, and it’s not like Bruce was good at hiding it. But that didn’t mean she had to feel the same way, right? After all, hadn’t she _just_ spent the better part of the last year running from Steve?

Maybe Bruce would be a good distraction, though. Bruce definitely wasn’t Steve. He was still a good guy, sure, but the two of them had a lot more in common. Steve was much too good for her. Too good for most people, actually, but especially her. It didn’t matter how she felt about him…there was no way she could maintain anything even close to resembling a relationship with _anyone_. Neither could Bruce.

And besides, Steve had suddenly become cold and distant, even after they’d both apologized to one another. Now, instead of being at each other’s throats, they just avoided each other. She saw the looks he gave Bruce when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

She understood, of course. She knew she’d been treating him like shit, and hated herself for it. She deserved it, and convincing herself she was irritated by his attitude towards her made it easier, somehow.

She just felt bad for Bruce. He didn’t do anything wrong, and shouldn’t have to be dragged into…_whatever_ this was between her and Steve. Plus, Steve had never struck her as the jealous type, so she knew it was stemming from something else.

And _that_ was the problem. He’d told her that night that he knew it couldn’t go anywhere. She hadn’t agreed, but she’d assumed leaving him in the middle of the night and not speaking to him for several more months would get the message across.

She never was good with articulating her feelings.

“_Well then, technically you’re unemployed. Where’s Loki’s scepter?_”

Steve’s voice was back, a one-sided conversation with Baron von Strucker. Natasha reached up and switched her comm link off. He could handle this, and they didn’t need her anymore. She was free to shut him out - if only for the time being - and concentrate on getting Bruce back to the quinjet.

“How’s he doing?”

Steve kept his head down as Natasha approached. Instead he leaned over, focused on inserting a new IV into Clint’s wrist, refreshing the fluids and morphine they’d had him on since leaving Novigrad.

“He’s fine.”

Steve stood upright and adjusted himself away from her, and she let out an irritated huff. He finally braved a glance up at her just in time to watch her turn away from him and round the table towards Bruce. His jaw clenched tightly, and he swore she stared straight at him for a split second before taking a seat in front of him.

“Hey, the lullaby worked better than ever,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice. Steve resisted rolling his eyes and left Clint’s side to get as far away from the two of them as possible, opting to go stand next to Thor at the back of the jet instead. Thor nodded at him in a silent greeting and Steve stared down at the scepter in its case, pretending to examine it.

“How’d Loki get this thing anyway?” he asked Thor, who just let out a long breath and shook his head.

“Odin only knows. Never really got the opportunity to speak to him about it.”

It was then that Steve remembered he’d been killed in their fight with the dark elves. He felt like an ass. The conversation he’d desperately tried to start died before it had even really began.

“How long until you trust me?”

Steve cursed his enhanced hearing. That hit him hard, the uncharacteristic desperation in Natasha’s voice - however subtle it may have been - sending an ache through his chest. In fact, he was suddenly starting to feel claustrophobic, and desperately wished the quinjet was larger so he could disappear and not have to listen to their conversation.

“Thor, report on the Hulk?” Natasha called suddenly. Thor turned and grinned over at them, completely oblivious to how tense Steve was next to him.

“The gates of Hel are filled with the screams of his victims!” he exclaimed happily. Natasha twisted around and glared at him, and Bruce groaned, burying his face in his hands. Steve dropped his gaze down to the floor, trying to suppress a grin. “Uh, but not the screams of the _dead_, of course,” he added quickly, once he realized what he’d said. Steve peeked a glance up at Natasha, who was still giving Thor a harsh look, then up at the ceiling of the jet, desperately trying not to laugh. It was petty. He knew it was. “No, no, uh, _wounded_ screams, mainly, whimpering, uh, a great deal of complaining and tales of sprained…deltoids and…uh…gout.”

Thor glanced around and caught Steve’s eye guiltily. Steve just grinned at him.

“Hey, Banner?” Tony called from the pilot’s seat, apparently completely oblivious to the conversation going on behind him. “Doctor Cho’s on her way in from Seoul, is it okay if she sets up in your lab?”

“Uh, yeah, she knows her way around.”

“Thanks,” Tony replied, then muttered, “Tell her to prep everything, Barton’s gonna need the full treatment.”

“_Very good, Sir._”

Natasha had turned back to Bruce, but Steve noticed her shoot a worried glance over at Clint. He sighed and looked away from her again. He felt awful; if it was her on that table he’d be a mess. She was holding herself together quite well, but he knew that look. She was trying to distract herself from how worried she was.

Back when they worked for SHIELD, after a long, stressful mission, she always liked to come sit next to him on the ride back to the Triskelion or the helicarrier. He’d occupy himself with typing up his notes on a tablet and she’d lean against his arm, reading over his shoulder and adding her own observations or corrections here and there. Sometimes, after a particularly rough one, they’d just sit together and she’d let her head fall onto his shoulder and close her eyes for a while.

He wished he could go to her now, take a seat next to her on the floor and just _be_ there for her.

Of course, there was one small problem with that. A small problem that was actually quite large, and green, and pulling his headphones back on despite the fact that she was obviously still shaken.

“Feels good, yeah?” Tony’s voice dragged Steve back to the present and he glanced over at the scepter as he approached. “We’ve been after this thing since SHIELD collapsed. Not that I haven’t enjoyed our little raiding parties, but-“

“But this…this brings it to a close,” Thor finished for him.

“As soon as we find out what else this has been used for,” Steve added, welcoming the conversation as a distraction. “And I don’t just mean weapons. Since when is _Strucker_ capable of human enhancement?”

“Banner and I will give it the once-over before it goes back to Asgard, is that cool with you?” Thor considered for a second, then nodded. “You know, just a few days until the farewell party. You’re staying, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course, a victory should be honored with revels.” Thor didn’t seem terribly thrilled about it - he’d started getting anxious about the scepter not being safely locked away on Asgard - but it would be nice to have him around a while longer.

“Yeah, who doesn’t love revels,” Tony replied drily. He leaned over the table and glanced past Thor at Steve. “Cap’n?”

A party was the last thing Steve felt like dealing with, but he didn’t really have a choice. Besides, he’d convinced Sam to drive up to the city for the night, so at least he’d have him there to distract him.

“Hopefully this puts an end to the Chitauri _and_ Hydra, so…” He looked up and met Tony’s gaze, plastering on a half-assed fake smile. “Yes. Revels.”

“Finally, I’ve succeeded in roping you all into attending one of my shindigs at the same time.” Tony stood upright and clasped his hands together.

“A party full of people who don’t want to be there? Sounds fun,” Natasha drawled sarcastically. She’d left Bruce in the alcove, and had crossed over to stand next to Clint.

“Hey, there’s free food and alcohol. The least you can do is pretend to enjoy yourselves,” Tony shot back as he passed her on his way back to the cockpit. She just grinned and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure Barton will be _thrilled_ to learn he has to socialize so soon after getting shot,” Steve muttered, before he could stop himself. Natasha huffed out a laugh and glanced over at him. Her smile faded a bit when she caught his eye, but he returned it, hoping it didn’t look as pathetic as he felt.

By the time they’d arrived at the tower Clint was awake, but still quite groggy from the morphine. Natasha was there when he opened his eyes, confusion swirling in them as he blinked up at her.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she greeted, and despite the pain meds slowing him down, he rolled his eyes. “Told you you’d live, asshole.”

“Yeah…now I gotta…put up with…with you,” he mumbled back.

“Aren’t you lucky,” she replied flatly. He just huffed and closed his eyes again.

As soon as the jet landed and the ramp opened, Helen Cho and a few of her nurses were waiting for them. They hurried Clint off of the jet, Natasha staying right at his side with his hand clasped tightly in hers.

“What happened?” Helen asked, once she finished directing her staff in Korean.

“Turret from a bunker swiped him,” Natasha supplied. “I gave him an antiseptic injection immediately after and he’s been on morphine and fluids since before we left Novigrad.”

“Good. That should hopefully have kept away any infection and we can start the skin-grafting process right away.”

They piled into the elevator and Helen went back to speaking in Korean.

“See? I saved your life,” she said to Clint, nudging his arm a little.

“’S not exactly what I heard,” he grumbled back.

Helen had already taken over Bruce’s lab, complete with unfamiliar machinery and a medical table with a rounded bar over top of it. Natasha assumed it was the portable regeneration cradle Tony had told them about. She helped the nurses transfer Clint from the stretcher onto the table, then stepped back and let them work.

They cleaned up the wound and taped off the area around his destroyed uniform with gauze before getting him into position and turning on the machine. The little lasers on the arched bar came to life and started mapping out the damaged skin. After about fifteen minutes there was already a thin layer of fresh pink skin covering the burn.

The rest of the team made it up to the main level eventually, and when Bruce walked by outside she glanced out the window to watch him. He looked much better than he had on the jet. It amazed her how quickly he could bounce back from something that seemed to take so much out of him. He stopped to talk to Tony briefly before entering the lab, and she averted her gaze, leaning down over the table to inspect the spot that the machine was working on. It was already covered in new, raw skin.

“You sure he’s gonna be okay?” she asked, ignoring the eye roll she got from Clint in return. “Pretending to need this guy really brings the team together,” she added with a smirk, standing upright again. Clint tilted his head back and shot her a look.

“There’s no possibility of deterioration,” Helen assured her. She approached the machine and tapped a few buttons on the top of the bar hanging over Clint. “The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous. The _cells_ don’t know they’re bonding with simulacrum.”

“She is _creating_ tissue,” Bruce explained, shrugging on his lab coat. Natasha glanced up at him, giving him a cool look in response, irritated that he felt the need to dumb Helen’s words down for her.

“If you brought him to my lab, the regeneration cradle could do this in…” Helen shrugged, a proud smile on her face. “Twenty minutes.”

Natasha liked Helen. She’d only met her a few times, but she was an absolute _genius_. Some of the things she could do completely blew her mind, which was hard to do for someone who’d seen so much in her many years of life.

“Oh, he’s flatlining,” Tony announced as he entered the room with a tray full of his favorite hand-made (well, by Jarvis) juice. “Call it. Time?”

“No, no, no, I’m gonna live forever,” Clint shot back, then chuckled lightly, taking the drink Tony offered him. “I’m gonna be made of _plastic_.”

“You’re going to be made of _you_, Mr. Barton,” Helen assured him with a grin. “Your own girlfriend won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Well…I don’t have a girlfriend,” he muttered.

“_That_ I can’t fix,” Helen replied. Clint glanced up at Natasha, who snorted out a silent laugh, before he shakily guiding the straw into his mouth and took a sip. He grimaced as he swallowed it down, but was thirsty enough that he took another drink. “_This_ is the next thing, Tony. Your clunky metal suits are gonna be left in the dust.”

“Well, that is…_exactly_ the plan.”

Natasha picked up her own drink and took a sip, tapping Clint lightly on the shoulder to tell him she’d be back, then heading out of the room while Tony changed the subject, again, to the party.

She crossed the lab and snuck out the back into the hall, sipping on her juice and pulling out her phone. She had to call Laura, and there were too many ears around to do it where Clint could talk to her too. She’d texted her on the way back from Novigrad, but she knew she’d be worried sick until she received confirmation that he was okay.

Before she could dial, however, Steve suddenly pushed his way through door at the end of the hall, changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, freshly out of the shower if his wet hair was any indication. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her, staring at her awkwardly for a few long seconds before tightening his jaw and heading towards her again.

“How’s Clint?” he asked, his voice much too rigid. Natasha lowered her phone and turned towards him, determined to act normal.

_Normal_. They didn’t even _have_ a normal anymore.

“Good. He’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s great.” He stopped a few feet from her and reached up to rub the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Uh, you staying for the party?”

“Where else would I go?” she replied cooly. He let out a long, irritated breath.

“I don’t know. Just thought…now that we have the scepter-“

“What, I’d run away again?” She smirked at him, her hand tightening around her phone, ignoring the ache radiating through her chest. _God_, she hated this. She hated herself more. “Not this time, Captain. Sorry.”

With that she brushed past him, ignoring the frustrated sigh he gave her in response, and escaped back into Tony’s lab to find another spot to call Laura.


	5. Chapter 5

**MANHATTAN, NEW YORK**

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Natasha’s gaze flitted over to Clint as he plopped down on the sofa next to her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” she replied drily, but still took the glass from his hands. He leaned back and took a long swig of his own beer.

“Thought that counts, right?” he said with a shrug. He nodded in the direction she’d been looking before he’d approached her. “Who’s winning?”

“What?”

“The game.”

Natasha glanced back over to where Steve and Sam were playing a round of pool with some war vets from Sam’s VA clinic in D.C.. She hesitated, realizing for the first time that she’d been watching them ever since Rhodey had left her to go find Tony. That had been at least five minutes ago.

Clint gestured towards them again and she hid behind taking another dip of her drink. “Go cheer him on.”

“Can I punch you in the face instead?” she muttered against the rim of the glass. The vodka in it burned all the way down her throat as she gulped it down and averted her gaze to stare at the floor.

“Might get his attention.”

“God, you are insufferable. I don’t know how Laura puts up with you.”

“Fuck if I know.” Natasha lifted her gaze to Steve once more. He bent over to watch Sam take a shot, and when the ball went in, he straightened up and let out a soft chuckle. Sam said something and he laughed fully, his head falling back his hand flying out to smack Sam in the chest. The sight of it caused Natasha’s heart to pull tightly in her chest and she stared back down at the table again. Clint sighed, but whatever he wanted to say went unsaid when she glared at him.

He kept her company for a bit, and they were soon joined by Maria and Rhodey, who launched into some story from work. While Maria rolled her eyes and Clint watched him unamused, Natasha only half listened, continuing to look past Rhodey every so often at Steve and Sam. At one point, when the only ball remaining on the table was black, Steve made a show of taking off his jacket, hanging it on the railing, and pushing his sleeves up before bending over the table and lining up his cue. The eight ball fell into the pocket and he stood, receiving a light-hearted smack on the back from Sam.

“_Everyone’s_ impressed by Iron Man, okay? But War Machine is cool too. Natasha’s seen it, haven’t you?”

Natasha’s eyes flitted back to Rhodes, and she shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of shit. Takes a lot to impress me.”

She had no idea which story he’d been telling (she’d probably already heard it, honestly…he and Tony were very much alike in that respect) but her response must have applied because he let out a frustrated sigh and mumbled, “You guys suck,” before taking a long drink of his champagne. Clint gave her a look, so she quickly downed the rest of her vodka and stood with the excuse of wanting another drink.

The bar on this side of the room was deserted, so she went behind it herself and pulled a bottle of her favorite vodka, the kind Tony knew she liked and had imported from Russia. She paused before opening it and snuck a glance over the pool table again. Steve and Sam were gone, replaced by a new group of people. She scanned the crowd and found them ascending the stairs to the balcony, Sam with a fresh glass of whiskey in his hands. They stopped and leaned over the railing while they talked.

Natasha busied herself pouring more vodka in her glass, then put the bottle away before bringing the drink to her lips and leaning against the back counter of the bar. At least it was quiet over here. Everyone was too busy fawning over Thor and Tony to notice she’d snuck away. She hadn’t talked to many of the guests tonight, actually. No one really knew who she was to begin with, and the ones that did were probably too afraid of her to strike up a conversation.

At least releasing her file to the internet last year had _one_ benefit.

“Tony pay well for these gigs?” Every muscle in her body tensed, and she glanced over at Steve. He hopped down the last couple steps from the balcony, smiling hesitantly when he got her attention. “Or is this a pity thing?”

“I’m sure he deserves the pity, but my days of working for Stark came to a close long ago.”

She averted her gaze when he reached the bar, reaching below the counter to pull out a glass. Then she turned to survey the back wall, conveniently avoiding him while she scanned the labels of the bottles lined up along the glass shelves. Finally she picked one - a whiskey she knew he’d like - and pulled it down to pour into the new glass. She turned and handed it to him, offering him a soft smile. An olive branch.

“Thanks.” He took a sip and glanced down at it appreciatively. “This is good.”

“I know.” She finished what was left in her own glass, wishing it was having any effect on her whatsoever. “Sam leave?”

“Yeah. He has a group in the morning, had to get back to the city.” Natasha hummed in response, paying much more attention to sliding her thumb over the edge of her empty glass. It had always been so easy for them to strike up a conversation in the past, but now she never knew what to say to him. “Well, um…thanks for the drink.”

He watched her for a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity, then let out a soft sigh and walked past her. When his back was to her she glanced up to see him approach Thor and the group of vets he and Sam had been playing pool with before.

She should have just left again after they’d found the scepter.

“I gotta have some of that.”

Thor took the glass of whiskey from Steve’s hand and popped open the lid of his flask.

“Oh, no, no no…see this-“ he handed Steve his glass back. He frowned down at it, then lifted it up to his nose. It had an odd odor, sweet but earthy, but one that mixed well with whatever Natasha had given him. He glanced back up at Thor. “-this was aged for a thousand years, in the barrels built from the wreck of Brunhilde’s fleet.” He grabbed his own drink off of the table next to them and sprinkled some into it for himself. “It was not meant for mortal men,” he finished with a smile.

“Neither was Omaha Beach, blondie,” said a second man from where he was sitting at the table. “Stop tryin’ to scare us. Come on.”

Thor glanced over at Steve with an amused look on his face. Steve grinned and shrugged. It was all the approval Thor needed to pour a few drops into the man’s shot glass.

Steve took a sip from his own glass, surprised at how well it paired with his whiskey. He was even more surprised when, after a few gulps and only about ten minutes, he felt everything softening around the edges, a warm fuzziness taking over him.

He hadn’t been drunk in _years_. Even before the serum, he rarely drank whenever he tagged along with Bucky. He was such a lightweight that a single beer would usually be his limit, and any more than that often made him sick. During the war, the commandos tried countless times to outdrink him, but that usually ended up with all of them passed out, leaving Steve to take watch for the night. He had to admit it was nice, finally feeling a bit more relaxed than he had been all night.

The other men in the group wanted in too, so he and Thor ended up watching in amusement as they all fell one my one, one of them passing out leaning over the table, and a few others calling it a night completely. Finally, when the last two had left to go get a cab, Thor poured more from his flask in each of their glasses and took a seat at the now empty table.

“You like it?”

“Yeah.” Steve sat in the chair opposite him and took a sip. This one was stronger, now that it was less diluted with whiskey. “The serum speeds up my metabolism so much nothing ever affects me.”

“That sounds…awful.”

Steve grinned at him. “It’s not so bad. Just makes Stark’s parties seem longer.”

Thor let out a booming laugh and tapped his glass against Steve’s before draining half of it in one gulp. “I’ll take your word for it.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Thor observed the remaining guests, making comments here and there, but Steve let his eyes wander across the room, finally landing on Natasha. She was still behind the bar, mixing a drink. The overhead lights caused her to practically _glow_, her hair contrasting bright red against the pale of her skin and white top of her dress.

He’d been avoiding her all night, which was just as well considering she seemed to be doing the same to him. That was their new normal these days. The one time he’d been brave enough to approach her he’d been so distracted by how absolutely stunning she was that he’d been unable to even keep up a conversation that didn’t result in her closing herself off just as quickly he’d been forced to awkwardly walk away.

He caught movement in the corner of his eye and his heart sank when he realized it was Bruce. She poured the contents of a shaker into a martini glass and then got to work pulling out a second one and preparing another drink.

His hand clenched his own glass a little too tight, and he had to set it down before it shattered. He hummed and nodded in response to something Thor had said but was so focused on the way she slid Bruce’s drink across the counter at him and leaned forward.

Her movements seemed stiff and uncomfortable. Natasha was _never_ uncomfortable, and even when she was, she didn’t show it. The only time he’d seen her react this way was on a mission, the kinds that required her to play nice with a mark in order to distract them or get information. The only difference was that those times, it didn’t send the same ache through his chest that made him want to punch the wall.

“How long have they been together?” That definitely got Steve’s attention. He dragged his eyes away from Natasha and gaped over at Thor, who was watching him expectantly.

“How…what?”

“Banner and Agent Romanoff. They are in a relationship, are they not?”

“No.” He’d answered much too quickly. Thor noticed and glanced back towards Bruce and Natasha curiously. “No, they’re not togeth…don’t listen to Tony. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Thor turned his attention back to Steve and frowned. “You and her…?”

“No,” Steve said again. Thor’s calculating gaze was suddenly too much so he drained the rest of his drink in one long gulp, wincing as it burned all the way down his throat. “We’re friends. Partners…kind of.” He could still feel Thor’s eyes on him. “Until SHIELD fell. We don’t talk a lot anymore though. We’re…just fr-“

“Friends,” Thor repeated for him. “I see.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed and braved a glance up at Thor. “It’s just…complicated.” He stood, his fight or flight reflexes kicking in. “I’m gonna grab a beer. You want one?”

He barely waited for Thor to decline, ignoring the amused way he was watching him and standing from the table. Before he had the sense to tell himself not to he made his way back to the bar, silently cursing Thor for whatever had been in that flask - if only for a reason to blame his terrible actions on the foreign liquor buzzing around in his brain- and Sam, for leaving early and not being there to distract him any longer.

Natasha’s eyes flicked over to him, only for a second. She said something to Bruce with a fake smile plastered on her face before turning away. Steve leaned up against he counter next to Bruce and she caught his eye again, shooting him a look as she passed, then headed straight up the stairs to the balcony. Bruce just stared after her, oblivious.

“It’s nice,” Steve commented, before he could stop himself. Bruce dragged his eyes away from Natasha and they fell on him.

“Wha…what is?”

“You and Romanoff-“

“No, no, we haven’t…that wasn’t-“

“It’s okay,” Steve interrupted, breathing out a fake laugh that took way more effort than it should have. “Nobody’s breaking any _bylaws_. It’s just…she’s not the most…_open_ person in the world.” He watched Bruce carefully while he fiddled uncomfortably with his glasses. His smile faded. “But with you she seems very relaxed.”

“No, Natasha, sh-she…she likes to flirt.”

Steve’s jaw clenched tightly and Bruce nervously adjusted his weight away from him. The territorial jealously that suddenly flared up surprised him. Natasha was smart, she had to know what she was doing. And she also had to know Steve would see right through it, even if Bruce didn’t. He turned to lean over the bar to grab a beer.

“I’ve seen her flirt.” He glanced back up to Bruce and, looking him right in the eyes, added. “Up close.” Bruce swallowed hard. “This ain’t that.”

Bruce just huffed in response, watching Steve as he pushed himself upright and turned to walk away.

And then came the guilt. Natasha had said herself whatever happened between them hadn’t meant anything. Sure, she’d apologized, but that didn’t mean a damn thing. She’d also made it seem like everything would go back to normal, but they hadn’t. She still avoided him, still visibly threw herself at Bruce whenever he was in the room (or at least some days that’s what it _felt_ like to him). Maybe she did reciprocate whatever Bruce felt for her, maybe she was just trying to prove a point. But either way…who was he to have an opinion on it?

Just because _he_ was in love with her didn’t mean she felt the same way.

She was clearly going through something, but if she didn’t want to open up to him, didn’t want to involve him in her life anymore…what could he do? Being an asshole wasn’t going to fix anything. It would probably just piss her off and drive her even further away.

And besides…she deserved to be happy.

“Look…as maybe the world’s leading authority on waiting too long…” He paused and met Bruce’s eye, the fake smile plastered on his face fading and the ache in his chest growing almost too much to bear. “Don’t. You both deserve a win.”

Bruce just nodded, the things Steve hadn’t said finally making themselves clear if the realization in his eyes was any indication. Steve sighed and gave him a single nod before finally turning back towards what remained of the party.

“Wait, what do you mean _up close_?” Bruce called after him. He didn’t reply, just continued walking away, but didn’t let himself stop the smirk he wished he had the guts to let Bruce see.

“Well, looks like everyone who wasn’t forced to be here is gone.” Tony plopped down on a sofa next to Rhodes, drink in hand.

“At least I’m getting paid to be here,” Maria muttered. She was sitting on the floor next to Clint, cleaning up the card game she’d just beat him at. At some point she’d retrieved Steve’s jacket, Natasha suddenly noticed. Something about that irritated her so she averted her gaze.

Thor joined them as well, setting Mjolnir down on the coffee table and taking a seat next to Steve.

“I don’t remember that memo,” Tony shot back.

“Why aren’t _we_ getting paid?” Clint asked. He was fiddling with the drumsticks the band had left behind, and tapped them rhythmically against the edge of the coffee table. “None of us wanted to be here either.”

“Sorry, and what life of yours outside of the Avengers was I interrupting when I offered you free food and booze?”

“Who said I don’t have a life?”

“He has a point.”

Clint glanced over at Natasha, who just smirked at him, earning her a glare. She knew damn well if Tony hadn’t talked him into attending the party, he and Laura would have put the kids to bed early, binged a few episodes of Game of Thrones, and been asleep by ten.

“How does that thing not fall over?” Tony gestured towards Mjolnir, completely disregarding the conclusion to a conversation he’d been the one to start. “It’s not even flat on the table.”

“Magic,” Thor replied flatly, earning a peal of laughter from Steve. Thor pulled out the flask he’d been drinking out of all night and took a sip of it. He handed it to Steve, who took a swig from it himself and washed it down with the beer in his other hand. Natasha had noticed him becoming steadily more giggly as the night wore on, and he had a bright pink flush to his cheeks.

A part of her was impressed that Thor was the one who finally managed to get Steve drunk, and the other was a little bitter that he’d succeeded before her.

Bruce suddenly sat down on the sofa next to where Clint was sitting with his back against it on the floor, and handed her a beer.

“Sorry…I uh, I didn’t know what you liked,” he explained with an awkward smile. She’d almost forgotten he’d volunteered to get them both fresh drinks. She returned his smile before popping the bottle open.

“It’s fine, thanks.”

“_Magic_?” Clint repeated, staring at Thor incredulously.

“Well, how else would you describe it?”

“Magic doesn’t exist,” Tony insisted. “There’s a scientific explanation for everything if you look hard enough.”

“Then how do you suppose _that_ thing works, Stark?” Clint challenged, jabbing his head towards the hammer.

“Haven’t looked hard enough,” Tony replied with a shrug.

“It’s a trick,” Clint decided, taking a long swig of his drink.

“What do you think?” Natasha turned her attention back to Bruce. She realized she hadn’t even tried it yet, so she brought the bottle to her lips and took a sip.

She hated beer. Hated most things that weren’t vodka, actually, but she didn’t tell him that, just offered him a reassuring smile and nodded (because it was polite, not because she’d caught Steve shooting the two of them glances the entire time they’d all been sitting here).

_Steve_ knew she hated beer. He never offered it to her, and he always kept a small bottle of her favorite vodka at his place because he knew it was one of the only things she liked.

“Yeah, it’s g-“

“But it’s a _trick!”_ Clint said loudly, cutting her off.

Thor chuckled. “Oh, no. It’s much more than that.”

“Tony found that, actually.” A flash of guilt passed through Natasha. Bruce was trying so hard to keep her attention.

“Yeah?” He nodded towards the bottle and launched into a story about the brand, how it was his favorite. She just plastered on a fake smile.

“Whosoever he be worthy shall haveth_ the power!_” Clint roared dramatically. She couldn’t tell if Thor looked more offended or impressed by his impression. “Whatever, man! It’s a _trick_!”

Bruce sighed, interrupted again, and Natasha just snorted out a laugh. Clint was a moron when he was drunk.

“Well please, be my guest.”

That shut him up.

“Come on,” Tony encouraged him. Clint glanced between Mjolnir and Thor.

“_Really_?”

“Yeah!”

Clint stared at Thor disbelievingly for a few seconds, then hopped up from the floor.

“This is going to be beautiful,” Rhodey muttered from behind the rim of his beer bottle. Clint rounded the table arrogantly, and Natasha reached out and patted him on the arm as he passed. This was _not_ going to end well.

“Clint, you’ve had a tough week. We won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.” Clint glared at Tony and turned his attention to Thor.

“You know I’ve seen this before, right?”

Thor just nodded, barely containing the amused grin on his face. Clint grabbed tight to the hammer’s handle and pulled, grunting at the effort. He tried for a few seconds, before finally huffing out a defeated laugh.

“I _still_ don’t know how you do it…”

“Smell the silent judgement?”

“Please, Stark.” Clint gestured towards him and backed up. “By all means.”

Tony stood suddenly, unbuttoning his blazer with a dramatic flourish as he rounded the table.

“Never one to shrink from an honest challenge.” Clint returned to his spot on the floor as Tony slipped his wrist through the strap on the hammer’s handle. “It’s physics.” The rest of the group either groaned or made their own comments, but Tony ignored them and glanced over to Thor. “Alright, so…if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?”

“Of course,” Thor replied earnestly.

“I _will_ be re-institutung Prima Nocta.” Natasha rolled her eyes. Tony grasped the handle of the hammer and anchored himself with his foot on the edge of the table before pulling.

It didn’t budge.

He slid the strap off of his wrist and stood up straight again. “I’ll be right back.”

“No cheating, Stark!” Clint called, but Tony ignored him and jogged across the room and disappeared up the steps that led to his office. “That’s cheating,” he insisted again, this time to Thor.

“This was your idea, Barton. Don’t blame Thor,” Rhodey reminded him. He then stood and followed Tony, waving off the groans of the others when they realized what he was doing.

When they came back, each of them was missing their blazer but had one of the gauntlets from their respective suits. Tony stepped ahead of Rhodey and grabbed the handle again. It still stayed put, even when he activated the jets. Rhodey squeezed in next to him and grabbed the handle as well.

“Are you even pulling?”

Tony glared at him. “Are _you _on my team?”

“Just represent! Pull!”

“Alright, let’s go.”

Their gauntlets whirred louder and louder, and still nothing happened.

“Alright, this is fun, who’s next?” Thor said finally, clapping his hands together. Tony and Rhodey’s gauntlets went silent and they both let go, admitting defeat. “Banner?”

“Um.” Bruce shot a careful glance over at Natasha, who just shrugged. He stood and approached Mjolnir, eyeing it carefully. “Do I _have_ to rule Asgard?”

Thor let out a booming laugh, but didn’t answer him. So Bruce pulled, grunting loudly and stepping up on the table for more leverage. He yelled out against the strain and, when the hammer didn’t budge, put on a show of acting like he was losing control and turning into the Hulk.

No one was impressed. Natasha’s eyes fell on Steve, the only one to even offer him a smile, then caught Bruce’s eye and shook her head.

“Nah?”

“Rogers, your turn,” Clint called, and Natasha’s gaze involuntarily went right to Steve again. He waved Tony off, catching Natasha’s eye before glancing over to Thor. He raised en eyebrow at him and nodded his heard towards the hammer in encouragement before taking a sip of his drink. Finally, Steve sighed and stood up.

“Let’s go, Steve. No pressure.”

He pushed his sleeves up wast his elbows, eyes concentrated on Mjolnir. Clint caught Natasha’s eye and raised an eyebrow at her, gesturing over at him just enough for her to notice. Natasha let her eyes follow his, grinning stupidly over at Steve.

“Come on, Cap.”

Steve gripped the handle tightly with both hands and pulled.

It moved.

It wasn’t much, but it _moved_.

_Holy shit_.

The smiled faded from her lips and he glanced around at the group. No one seemed to notice, besides Thor. The amusement was completely gone from his face, and instead he was watching the hammer with wide eyes. Steve pulled again, then threw his arms up in defeat when it stayed put.

“Ha, nothing,” Thor chuckled. He was staring at Mjolnir with a look of utter awe and confusion.

“I’ll admit, I kinda thought that was gonna work,” Clint muttered under her breath. Her eyes flicked over to meet Steve’s briefly - he was smiling but suddenly it was uncomfortable, and she wondered if he had felt it move - before dropping her gaze back to the hammer, eyeing it curiously.

Someone cleared their throat, getting her attention.

“And?” Tony said, looking pointedly at her.

“Widow?” Bruce added, gesturing towards her.

She wanted to laugh. They _had_ to be joking, right?

She avoided Bruce’s gaze and her eyes found Steve’s instead. He was watching her expectantly.

“Oh, no, no. That’s not a question I need answered.” She leaned back, taking a long swig of her beer. Steve’s face fell so she averted her gaze, dropping it to the floor instead.

“All deference to the man who _wouldn’t_ be king,” Tony started, not noticing her reaction, “but it’s rigged.” Thor just shrugged.

“You bet your ass,” Clint chimed in, standing and heading towards the bar.

“Steve, he said a bad-language word!” Maria said, pointing back at Clint. Steve sighed and glared at Tony.

“Did you tell _everyone_ about that?” Natasha grinned, but Tony ignored him.

“The handle’s imprinted, right?” he argued. “Like a security code? Whosoever is carrying Thor’s fingerprints, is I think the _literal_ translation?”

“Yes,” Thor agreed, standing. “Well, that’s a very, _very_ interesting theory…but I have a simpler one.” He reached down and picked up the hammer with a dramatic flourish, then threw it up into the air with a spin. “You’re all not worthy.”

“Oh, come on,” Maria said, amongst a chorus of groans.

A deafening screech suddenly sliced through the room. Natasha gasped, her bottle of beer tumbling to the floor as she scrambled to clasp her hands against her ears. Even when it creaked to a stop the noise continued to echo against her eardrums. She glanced over at Clint, who was shoving his hearing aids back into his ears.

Another sound echoed through the room, this time an eerie and mechanical voice.

“_Worthy_…”

She opened her mouth to ask Tony what the hell was going on when she heard heavy, clanking footsteps.

The source was an Iron Legion bot, tangled in wires and dripping oil all over the floor. It was falling apart, creaking and armor stripped away.

“_No…” _it droned, as it shuffled towards them. “_How _could_ you be worthy? You’re all…killers_.”

“Stark…” Steve warned.

“Jarvis?” Tony lifted his phone, but his eyes stayed trained on the bot.

“_I’m sorry, I was asleep,_” it continued. The voice sent a shiver down Natasha’s spine. Something about it, how mechanical yet still incredibly _human_ it sounded, made her uncomfortable. “_Or…I was a dream_.”

“Reboot Legionnaire OS, we’ve got a buggy suit.” Tony finally dragged his eyes away and tapped the screen of his phone a few times. Nothing happened.

“_There was a terrible noise…and I was tangled in…_” The bot raised its arms and turned, stumbling backwards a few steps, “…_strings_.” It turned back towards them. “_Had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy._”

“You _killed_ someone?” Steve’s voice had turned from defensive to angry.

“_Wouldn’t have been my first call. But…down in the real world, we’re faced with ugly choices_.”

“Who sent you?” Thor demanded. Something squealed and suddenly Tony’s voice replaced the bot’s.

“_I see a suit of armor around the world.”_

Bruce gasped next to Natasha. “Ultron.”

“_In the flesh_,” the bot replied. “_Or, no…not yet._” Tony’s eyes flickered uneasily towards Bruce. Natasha glanced over at him too. He was gaping back at Tony, eyes wide with disbelief. “_Not this…Christmas. But I’m ready_.” Mjolnir hummed in Thor’s hand, and Maria discreetly pulled out the pistol strapped to her thigh and clicked off the safety. “_I’m on a mission._”

“What mission?” Natasha asked, sharing a look with Clint. His eyes flicked behind her, towards the bar. She gave him a half nod in understanding and glanced back at the bot.

“_Peace in our time._”

The wall behind it exploded. More Legionnaires burst through it, one of them heading straight for Steve and another at Thor. Steve kicked up the table and blocked its attack, forcing Natasha to spin away and shield herself from the objects flying off of it. She grabbed onto Bruce’s arm and shoved him away just as Steve went flying over the back of the couch and landed hard on the floor.

Everyone else scattered, either taking cover or charging the attacking bots. Tony was hit by one and smacked into a bookshelf, causing it to topple over, and Rhodey was sent soaring through a glass window that overlooked the hangar.

Natasha dragged Bruce towards the bar and flung herself over it just as a repulsor blast hit the countertop a few feet away. Bruce tried to follow her but didn’t make it over the bar, so she reached up to grab his arm and yanked him down. He landed hard on top of her, pushing all of the air out of her lungs.

“Sorry,” he gasped.

“Don’t turn green,” she panted back.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

She pushed him off of her and turned towards the bar, scrambling to find something she could use to defend them. Bruce getting hit by a rogue repulsor blast and bringing the Hulk into the equation was the _last_ thing they needed. Sure enough, secured to the underside of the counter was a pistol.

Ah, so _that_ must be why Clint had sent her in that direction.

Something hit the countertop again, so Natasha peeked up over the top of it. One of the bots had followed them, and was hovering on the other side. She whipped the pistol up and fired at it a few times, but the bullets hit solid metal and bounced right off of it. She ducked away another blast and when she lifted her head again she saw Steve sprinting across the room. He leapt up, and landed on the bot’s back, punched it a few times to distract it, before it zoomed backwards, slamming Steve into another wall.

“Come on!” she called to Bruce, then took off towards the stairs not far from them. He nodded and scrambled after her.

She paused long enough before stepping out into the open to see Steve fall to the ground and the bot fly off before she stood and sprinted to the bottom of the staircase. The bot saw them again and fired, swerving side to side to miss the bullets she shot back as she ran up the steps two at a time.

“Go, find cover!” she shouted, shoving herself up against a beam at the top of the stairs and reloading her pistol. Bruce nodded, then hesitated.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she snapped. “_Go!_”

He scurried off and she whipped around the corner of the beam, aiming down one of the bots and firing.

“Stark!” She heard Steve yell, before he punched one of the bots in the face. It wasn’t deterred and rammed into him, knocking him to the floor once again. Natasha fired at it and it got distracted, instead eyeing Thor and going after him instead.

“Once sec…one sec!” Tony called back. He was fiddling with one of the bots, probably trying to shut it down.

One of the legionnaires that Thor had ripped in half came back to life and flew up, heading towards where Helen was hiding behind the piano. Steve noticed and ran after it, attacking it from behind. He flung it backwards, calling to Thor, who landed on the ground behind him just in time to catch it and smash it with his hammer.

A second one found them and fired. Steve ducked out of the way and Natasha shot at it, hitting the back of its head. It spun around and aimed its fire at her instead, so she ducked behind the beam for a second until it stopped, then spun around and shot at it again.

That only left a dent, however, and zoomed towards her, firing again. She ducked just as a blast hit the edge of the beam only inches from her head.

“Cap!” Clint shouted; Natasha peaked around the edge to see him toss Steve’s shield towards him. Steve leapt up and caught the edge of it, spun in the air and used the momentum to fling it at the legionnaire. It shattered and fell to the floor in pieces.

“That _was dramatic,_” Ultron’s voice said from the original bot. Natasha slumped against the beam to catch her breath. “_I know you _mean_ well. You just didn’t think it through.”_

Steve took a few defensive steps towards it. Bruce came out from around the corner, watching it with wide eyes. She glanced over at him. Tony she could absolutely see creating something like this, even on accident…but _Bruce_?

“_You want to protect the world…but you don’t want it to _change. _How is humanity saved, if it’s not allowed to…_evolve_? With these?_” Ultron bent down and picked up the top half of one of the destroyed bots. He squeezed and the faceplate flew off, falling to the floor with a clatter. “_These puppets?” _He threw the bot back to the floor. _“There’s only one path to peace. The Avengers’ extinction._”

Thor, finally having enough, suddenly whipped Mjolnir at the bot. It exploded, sending the hammer through the wall and back to Thor’s hand. The lights behind its eyes flickered, while the machinery crackled. It’s voice filled the room again, softly singing to itself.

_“I had strings, but now I’m free…_” The lights died out and they were thrown into silence again.

“Okay, what the _fuck_ was that?”

No one joked about Clint’s choice of words. Tony glanced helplessly over at him from where he was still sitting on the floor, and then at Bruce.

“I…”

“Stark?” Steve took a few menacing steps towards Tony. “What the _hell _did you _do_?”

Tony ignored him, scrambling to his feet and sprinting past Natasha up the steps. Bruce followed and they disappeared into his lab.

Steve just let out an irritated sigh, but turned to Maria to help her up off the floor. Rhodes, who had finally made it back upstairs, followed Tony and Bruce, along with Helen. Clint crossed the room and hopped up the stairs, stopping in front of her, resting his hand lightly on her arm.

“You okay?” Natasha tore her eyes away from the dead Ultron bot and met his gaze. She nodded.

“Yeah…I think so.” He nodded down towards her skirt, and for the first time she noticed it was ripped. The seam on the side of it had burst open and tore a hole at her hip. “Dammit. I liked this dress.”

She knew she had a spare tank-top and a pair of leggings in her locker right downstairs, so she headed there, changing and throwing her ruined dress in the trash before before meeting everyone else up in Tony’s lab. Clint was waiting for her and handed her one of his zip-up sweatshirts before following her inside.

Bruce and Tony were frantically trying to get the computers up and running again, but they weren’t responding with anything besides a black screen with angry red lettering covering it. Natasha crossed the room and picked up a tablet. It came to life but was completely unresponsive.

“All our work is gone.” Bruce said finally. “Ultron cleared out, used the internet as an escape hatch.”

“Ultron,” Steve scoffed, without even attempting to hide the anger in his voice.

“He’s been in everything.” Natasha set the useless tablet down again and turned back towards the group. “Files, surveillance…he probably knows more about us than we know about each other.”

She glanced over at Clint, who shifted uncomfortably. Laura and the kids weren’t on any official records, but if the state of their server was any indication, Ultron could potentially access any bit of information he wanted at a rate none of them could comprehend. Who knows what details, large or small, he would come across.

“He’s in your files. He’s in the internet.” Rhodes sighed and pushed himself up from where he was leaning against the wall. “What if he decides to access something a little more…_exciting_.”

“Nuclear codes,” Maria gasped. She was still picking shards of glass out of her bare feet.

“Nuclear codes,” Rhodey agreed. “Look, we need to make some calls. Assuming we still can.”

“Nukes?” Natasha questioned, meeting Rhodey’s gaze. “He said he wanted _us_ dead, why-“

“He didn’t say _dead_,” Steve cut in. She glanced over at him. “He said extinct.”

“He also said he killed somebody,” Clint added.

“There wasn’t anyone else in the building.” Maria glanced from Clint and Tony, who had suddenly crossed the room to stand in the center of it.

“Yes there was.”

He lifted his phone and tapped it into the air. A golden hologram flickered to life, speckled with neon blue, lines twisting and turning and scattered into pieces.

She’d seen it before. _Jarvis_.

Bruce’s face fell, and he approached it hesitantly, before lifting his gaze to Tony. “This is insane,” he breathed.

“Jarvis was the first line of defense,” Steve muttered with a sigh. “He would have shut Ultron down. It makes sense.”

“No…Ultron could have assimilated Jarvis. This…isn’t strategy. This is…rage.”

Heavy footsteps filled the room and Thor thundered into the room, heading straight for Tony. He reached out, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him a several inches off the ground.

“It’s goin’ around,” Clint muttered under his breath.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, use your words, buddy,” Tony choked, grasping at Thor’s hand in an attempt to loosen his grip.

“I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark,” Thor seethed in response.

“Thor!” Steve warned. “The legionnaire?”

Thor finally dropped Tony, who staggered backwards, gasping for breath.

“Trail went cold about a hundred miles out, but it’s headed north.” He glared at Tony. “And it has the scepter.” Steve sighed, shooting another irritated look over at Tony. “Now we have to retrieve it. _Again_.”

“Genie’s out of that bottle,” Natasha said with a sigh. She nodded towards the scene of the fight downstairs. “Clear and present is Ultron.”

“I don’t understand.” Helen, who had been silently inspecting one of the destroyed Iron Legion suits, turned to face them. “You _built_ this program.” Tony avoided her gaze, turning towards one of the computer screens, tapping its keyboard uselessly. “Why is it trying to kill us?”

Tony laughed.

That earned him several dirty looks, and Natasha rolled her eyes. Steve and Thor both looked like they were a second away from punching him. Bruce shook his head at him as a warning.

“You think this is _funny_?” Thor replied with a cold smile that didn’t reach the anger reflected in his eyes.

“No?” Tony met his gaze and then glanced around at the rest of the group. “It’s probably…not? Right? Is this very terrible? It is so…is it-“ he cut himself off with a nervous chuckle. “It is. It’s so terrible.”

Thor took a few menacing steps towards him. “This could have been _avoided_ if you hadn’t played with something you don’t underst-“

“No, I’m sorry,” Tony said, cutting Thor off. He met him back in the center of the room, his sudden defensiveness giving him a surge of confidence. “I’m sorry. It _is_ funny. It’s a _hoot_ that you don’t _get_ why we need this.”

“_To-_ny, maybe this might not…be the time-“ Bruce started, but he was interrupted but Tony spinning around to glare at him.

“Really?” Bruce just sighed. “That’s it. You just roll over, show your belly? Every time somebody snarls…”

“Only when I’ve created a murder-bot!” Bruce shot back incredulously. _At least one person is taking responsibility for this bullshit_, Natasha thought irritably.

“We _didn’t_!” Tony shot back. “We weren’t even close. Were we close to an interface?” Bruce looked like he wanted to punch Tony now too.

“Well you did something right!” Steve snapped. “And you did it right here!” He took a few steps towards Tony, who all but shrank away from him. “The Avengers were supposed to be _different_ than SHIELD.”

“Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole?” Tony replied, pointing up at the ceiling There was a collective groan across the room.

“No, it’s never come up,” Rhodey answered. Natasha rolled her eyes. Tony ignored them.

“Saved New York? Recall that!?”

“Never heard that,” Rhodey said again.

“A hostile alien army came _charging _through a hole in space…we’re standing three hundred feet below it.” He paused, glancing around at them. “We’re the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the live-long day, but that, up there-?” He pointed upwards again. “That’s the endgame. How were you guys planning on beating that?”

“Together,” Steve answered lowly. Tony took a few more steps towards him, eyes boring into Steve’s.

“We’ll lose.”

“Then we’ll do that together too.” Tony backed down, turning back to fiddled silently with the keyboard again. “Thor’s right. Ultron’s calling us out. And I’d like to find him before he’s ready for us.” He started pacing, turning the leader within him on with a flick of a switch. “The world’s a big place. Let’s start makin’ it smaller.”

“I’ll get in touch with the US government,” Rhodey offered. “It’s not likely Ultron will attack again so soon, but they need to be prepared, secure their systems. Warn the UN.” He glanced over at Bruce, gesturing to his shoulder, which looked to be dislocated. “Can you pop this thing back in place?”

“Yeah, come on.” Bruce let the way into his lab. Maria limped after them too, so she could bandage up the cuts littering her feet. Thor informed them he was going to consult with Heimdall to see if he had any insight, then stormed out of the lab in the direction of the hangar.

“What about us, Cap?” Clint asked, and Steve glanced over to him. A crease formed between his brows while he tried to come up with a plan.

“Contact Fury,” Natasha answered for him. “And anyone else who needs to know what’s going on,” she added with a knowing glance. He nodded and pulled out his phone before leaving the room. “Helen, Bruce might need help with Rhodey and Maria. And I’ll try to get through this mess.” She jabbed her head towards one of the monitors.

Everyone went their separate ways, leaving just Natasha, Steve, and Tony in the lab. The latter was apparently done defending himself, as he’d retreated to a quiet corner of the room and got to work on one of the holographic computer systems, trying to piece Jarvis back together. Natasha busied herself trying to break through the error codes flooding through the tower’s system, and pretended not to notice when Steve approached her.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked carefully. She kept her eyes glued to the screen, stilling herself so he didn’t see her reaction to his proximity.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” Part of her wanted him to leave her alone - she needed to concentrate, and she couldn’t with him towering over her like that, the smell of whiskey and his aftershave floating past her nose - and the other scrambled for something else to say to keep him standing there. She didn’t have to think too hard for the last part. “Think you can get it up and running again?”

Natasha glanced over at him, eyebrow raised. “Of course I can. This system is a piece of cake to break into. Even easier without Jarvis threatening to rat me out.”

“I heard that, Romanoff,” Tony grumbled from across the room. The corner of Steve’s mouth ticked up into what could almost be considered a smile.

“Do you, uh…want help?” Natasha huffed out a laugh. “What?”

“Sure, grandpa. Can you show me where the space bar is?” Steve rolled his eyes. “You should get in touch with Sam. If Ultron is out to destroy the Avengers, he’s probably on his list too.”

Steve hesitated, but finally agreed, leaving her alone to work. She watched him go out of the corner of her eye, suddenly wishing she’d let him hover just a few minutes longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> russian translations at the end

Steve was up bright and early the next morning. Of course, he’d also barely slept, so it had ended up being more of a nap before he’d given up and spent an hour or so in the gym until everyone else woke up.

Considering how both mentally and physically exhausted _he_ felt, he was baffled by how put-together Maria was when she stepped onto the elevator with him on their way up to the lab. She was even wearing heels despite, how badly she’d cut up her feet just hours before.

“Mornin’,” he greeted. She tapped the button that would take them up to the penthouse and nodded.

“Captain.”

“Any updates?”

She sighed, turning to face him as the elevator started moving. “Too many. Ultron has been busy.”

“Anything pressing?”

“He’s all over the globe.” The doors slid open and she turned, leading the way into the destroyed common area and up the stairs to the lab. “Robotics labs, weapons facilities, jet propulsion labs…reports of a metal man - or, men - coming in and emptying the place.”

“Fatalities?”

“Only when engaged.” That was good, at least. If any of this could be considered _good_. “Mostly guys left in a fugue state going on about old memories, worst fears, and something too fast to see.”

“Maximoffs,” he sighed. The information she’d dug up on the enhanced twins they’d encountered in Novigrad - Wanda and Pietro - made that obvious. The boy was inhumanly fast - something Steve hadn’t even seen with his own eyes - and the girl was telepathic. She’d tried to get to get into his mind when he confronted Strucker the other day. They’d put the two of them on the back burner while they finished dealing with the scepter, but it seemed as if they didn’t have a choice now. “Well, it makes sense he’d go to them, they have someone in common.”

“Not anymore.” They paused at the top of the steps and Maria handed him her tablet. She had a photo pulled up: Baron von Strucker, slumped over in his jail cell, with ‘peace’ written in blood on the wall.

_God dammit._

“That’s kind of a mixed message.”

“Is it?” Steve glanced up at Maria. “If it was my mission, world peace…I’d probably take out Strucker too.” Steve just sighed again, his eyes dropping back to the tablet. “Ultron could be in any system, he could be pulling planes down from the sky…what if he’s just doing what he’s supposed to?”

“If I thought Ultron was bringing peace, I’d hang up my shield,” he muttered bitterly.

“_Would _you?_”_

Steve lifted his eyes to meet hers again, his jaw tensing.

Choosing not to respond to that, he said, “Let me know if he leaves any more messages,” and left her at the top of the stairs.

He passed Clint on his way to Tony’s lab. He was surprised to see him up, especiallywithout a cup of coffee and considering how early it was.

“That’s a negative, I answer to you.” Steve glanced over at him curiously. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him on the phone with anyone who wasn’t Natasha. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Barton, we might have something.” Clint practically jumped and glanced over at him.

“Gotta go,” he mumbled, then quickly hung up. Steve nodded towards the phone in his hand.

“Who was that?”

“Girlfriend,” he said with a half-shrug, and left it at that.

When they entered Tony’s lab, he found them to be the last ones there. Natasha was sitting at one of the computers, deep in concentration, her fingers flying across the keyboard and a crease between her brows. Tony and Thor were hovering over her, watching her work. Bruce was working on another monitor across the room. Steve handed Thor the tablet when he approached them.

“What’s this?” Tony asked, leaving Natasha’s side and attempting to glance over Thor’s shoulder. Bruce crossed the room and looked on curiously.

“A message,” Steve answered. Thor shoved the tablet at Tony angrily, smacking in against his chest. “Ultron killed Strucker.”

“_And_ he did a Banksy at the crime scene,” Tony commented bitterly. “Just for us.”

“This is a smokescreen.” Natasha narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. They were a little glazed over and had bags underneath them. Steve wondered how much sleep she’d actually gotten last night. She glanced up at him. “Why send a message when you’ve just given a speech?”

“Strucker _knew_ something Ultron wanted us to miss,” he answered. They were already aware of Strucker’s experiments with the scepter, the ones that unfortunately resulted in the Maximoffs. If they were working with Ultron now, there _had _to be a connection. Natasha nodded in agreement and went back to the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

“I bet he-“ The computer beeped, cutting her off. “Yep. Everything we had on Strucker’s been erased.”

“Not everything.” They all glanced over at Tony, who grimaced. “It won’t be fun, but I have _boxes_ of paper files in my office.”

There was a collective sigh between them, but it was their only option.

They helped Tony haul all of the boxes out of the storage closet downstairs, and soon the entire room was surrounded in stacks of them. They all picked a box and got started, Thor tossing the lids of his haphazardly across the room in irritation every time he moved on to a new one.

It was slow going, but Steve finally found a folder that mentioned Strucker. He dug through the box, pulling out all of the information he though might be relevant.

“Known associates…” he muttered, flipping through one of the files. “Strucker had a lot of friends.”

“Well, these people are all _horrible_,” Bruce replied, grabbing a stack of folders for himself.

“Wait-“ Tony pointed towards one Bruce was in the process of discarding, and he handed it over. “I know that guy. From back in the day. He operated off the African coast, black market arms.” Steve shot Tony a look and he huffed defensively. “There are _conventions_, okay? You meet people. I didn’t sell him anything.” Thor pulled a page out of the file and eyed it curiously. Steve glanced over at it, not recognizing the man’s name. “He was talking about finding something _new_, a game-changer…it was all very _Ahab_-”

“What’s this?” Thor asked, cutting Tony off and pointing to the photo. The man had a mark on the back of his neck.

“Uh, that’s a tattoo, I don’t think he had it-“

“No, _those _are tattoos.” He gestured towards another photo. “This is a brand.”

Bruce took the photo from Thor’s hand and crossed the room to import it into the computer. After a few seconds of searching the recognition software made a match. “Oh, yeah…it’s a word in an African dialect meaning thief...in a much less friendly way.”

“What dialect?” Steve asked.

“Wak-anada…Wa…Wakanda?”

A glance over at him told Steve that Tony was thinking the same thing he was.

“If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…”

“I thought your father said he got the last of it?”

“I don’t follow, what comes out of Wakanda?” Bruce asked, abandoning the computer and meeting them on the other side of the room again. Steve turned and gestured behind him, where he’d set his shield the night before.

“The strongest metal on earth,” Tony answered.

Steve glanced back over at him. “Where is this guy now?”

“No idea. Jarv-“ Tony stopped abruptly and his face fell. “I’ll, uh…find out.”

“Everyone else suit up,” Steve said. “Stark, as soon as you narrow down a location we’ll head that way. The last thing we need is Ultron getting his hands on vibranium.”

Tony tracked the man, Ulysses Klaue, to a salvage yard on the eastern coast of Somalia. They left shortly after, Steve piloting the plane (thanks to the loss of autopilot) while the rest of them sat, mostly silently, behind him. Tony ended up passing out thirty minutes in; apparently he hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep the night before. Clint claimed a spot on the floor in one of the alcoves, Natasha next to him, dozing off and on with her head on his shoulder while he scrolled through his phone. Thor sat silently towards the end of the jet, and Bruce tapped around on a tablet, trying to gather as much intel as he could before they arrived.

Klaue’s current base of operations was the Churchill, a supposedly abandoned ship on the coast. Steve landed the jet not far from it, concealed a bit by the trees. He directed Bruce to hang back unless he was needed, then lead the rest of the team across the dirty and uninviting beach towards the ship.

It was easy enough to sneak onto, as there weren’t many opposing forces. Klaue had a crew of course, but most of them seemed to be contained inside the center of the ship.

And, sure enough, so was Ultron, flanked by Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. They were ganging up on Klaue.

_“_Nat, Barton, stay high. Keep an eye on the Maximoffs,” he whispered. Natasha nodded, sliding one of her pistols out if its holster and motioning for Clint to follow her. They snuck off down a hall that lead to an overhang that would give them the best view. “Stark and Thor, you’re with me. We confront Ultron directly, keep the vibranium away from him. If anything, we need to scare him off so he doesn’t get ahold of-”

A sudden commotion cut him off, and Steve whipped around to see Ultron attack Klaue. The man stumbled and fell out of sight.

“Dammit. Let’s go.”

Tony took off into the air while Steve and Thor hurried after him on foot.

“_Stark is…he’s a sickness!_” Ultron exclaimed angrily, his back to them.

“_Aw, Junior.”_ Ultron turned his head slowly in their direction as Tony clanked down behind him. He’d already built himself a new body, tall with glowing red eyes and a face that somehow seemed too human to be made of metal. The Maximoff twins were behind him, the girl’s eyes glowing as red as Ultron’s. “_You’re gonna break your old man’s heart_.”

“_If I have to_.” He turned fully now, tossing aside a canister of vibranium in the process.

“Nobody has to _break_ anything,” Thor leveled, tensing and clenching Mjolnir tightly.

“_Clearly you’ve never made an omelette_.”

“_He beat me by _one_ second,_” Tony muttered. Thor shot him a dirty look.

“Ah, this is _funny_, Mr, Stark. It’s what…comfortable?” The boy, Pietro, took a few confident steps forward, his accent thick. He glanced to the side towards a pile of explosives ready to be sold. “Like old times?”

“_This was never my life_,” Tony insisted, but Maximoff didn’t look convinced.

“You two can still walk away from this,” Steve told them, looking past Ultron to the twins. He knew they were young, but seeing them in person just solidified that. They were just _kids_, roped into Strucker’s experiments and whatever Ultron had planned.

“Oh, we will,” the girl sneered back.

“I know you’ve suffered-“

Ultron cut him off with a groan, then laughed. “_Captain America. God’s righteous man. Pretending you could live without a war.” _Steve hesitated, his jaw clenching and fist curling rightly around the strap of his shield. “_I can’t physically throw up in my mouth, but-“_

“If you believe in peace, then let us keep it,” Thor argued, cutting him off.

“_I think you’re confusing peace with quiet,”_ Ultron replied irritably. He took a few menacing steps towards them.

“_Nyuh-huh, what’s the vibranium for?_” Tony cut in.

“_I’m glad you asked that, because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan_.”

“_Guys-!_” came Natasha’s alarmed voice in Steve’s ear, but it was too late. Ultron lifted his hand and Tony was suddenly pulled forward like a magnet, then shoved him back with a beam of orange light. Before Steve and Thor could jump out of the way two bots that looked like smaller versions of Ultron came out of nowhere and smacked into them. Steve held his ground and pushed it away, flinging his shield up to block its next attack.

Steve and the bot traded blows while Tony went for Ultron himself. The bot spun him around and grabbed him by the neck, but Steve smacked it in the arm with his shield and broke loose, giving him the opportunity to knock it back with a blow to the head with the side of his shield. It stumbled backwards and he swung his foot around, kicking it away from him and turning his attention to the Maximoff girl.

She lifted her hands and, in a cloud of red energy, her eyes glowing brightly in the dim lights, blasted Steve away with the flick of her wrists. He rolled backwards and landed hard on the floor, just to be ambushed by more bots. He shoved one over the railing and it flew off towards Thor, then kicked the second one in the head. It flew back a few feet but turned on him again. He tossed his shield at it, but a split second later, something invisible smacked him in the face and he fell to the floor.

Steve grunted against the pain spreading across his jaw and he whipped his head around, confused.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, because he spotted one of the bots coming at him with his own shield. Steve leapt up into the air and reached for the edge of the vibranium, swinging the bot around until it was between him and the shield, holding it steady. Thor spun around and smacked its head off with his hammer.

This was a _mess_. Tony was still fighting with the larger Ultron, but there were too many smaller bots. Just one of them escaping with even an ounce of vibranium would be _very_ bad, and in this confusion, it wouldn’t be a difficult thing to accomplish.

Steve concentrated on the group of Klaue’s crew that were joining the fight, flinging his shield towards the hall they were pouring out of. It smacked into three of them and they fell over before it bounced against the wall and back onto his arm. Then he spotted the Maximoff boy and hopped down off of the ramp just in time to catch him off-guard and hit him clean in the face with his shield. He stumbled backwards into a pile of crates.

“Stay down, kid,” he hissed. That ought to have been enough to keep him still. Then he spun around, lifting his finger to his earpiece. “Banner, we need you! _Now_!” He was met with nothing but static. _Shit. “_Bruce!_”_ Still nothing. He let out a frustrated sigh. “Thor, status!”

“The girl tried to warp my mind!” Thor called back. “Take special care, I doubt a human can keep her at bay. Fortunately…I am….”

Thor trailed off with an odd, strangled noise, and Steve whipped his head around, trying to find him. “Thor?” He didn’t answer. “_Thor!_”

A group of Klaue’s men attacked him then, attempting to ambush him from behind. He hit one of them in the head with his shield and grabbed the other one by the collar, irritably tossing him aside. Before he could hit the first one again something collided with him and he was launched back several feet before crashing into the wall.

He could hear music, and it was _deafening_, comically upbeat and joyful despite the chaos around him. Had that been playing the whole time? He reached for his shield, but it was nowhere to be found, so he scrambled to his feet.

“Guys? What’s happen-“

Something wasn’t right. Steve paused, glancing around him. There were people everywhere, dressed in familiar but outdated fashions, laughing and dancing and drinking. He wracked his brain, trying to remember how he’d gotten here.

“_A week, next Saturday. At the Stork Club.”_

Of course. His date with Peggy. She was going to teach him how to dance.

“_Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you _dare_ be late._”

He wouldn’t dream of it.

A sudden high-pitched whistle caught his ears and a second later there was a blinding flash. He jerked violently, instinctively whipping his shield-less arm up to block it, feeling ridiculous when he realized it was just a camera. But he couldn’t shake it, his hands trembling and feeling uncomfortably empty without his shield. All he could see now was blood, could only hear the whistle of dropping bombs, the rattle of gunfire, the pop of flash grenades going off all around him with bright bursts of blinding light. Screams of pain and terror mixed with laughter and celebratory music.

This was wrong. _Very_ wrong.

“Are you ready for our dance?”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of her voice. He twisted around to see Peggy, her bright red lips and expectant eyes and not a hair out of place, watching him curiously. She reached out and touched him gently on the arm.

She looked so _young_, like it had been only yesterday that he’d been sitting across from her in some tactical planning meeting, watching her sip her tea while they planned a raid on one of Hydra’s weapons facilities. But she still had that same look in her eye that she had the last time he’d seen her, that same spark he saw every time she smiled and shook her head and chuckled at something he said before telling him he was being dramatic.

No, something _definitely_ wasn’t right. This couldn’t possibly be real.

Steve glanced around the room again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. There were cameras everywhere, capturing laughing and dancing couples on film. One man not far from him was completely wasted, red wine spilled all down his shirt.

“The war’s _over_, Steve.” He turned back to Peggy and frowned at her in confusion. “We can go _home_. Imagine it!”

_Home_.

He turned around again. The room was suddenly empty, the silence that washed over him just as deafening as the chaos.

He _tried_ to imagine it…home. _His_ home. The apartment he shared with Bucky in Brooklyn. The diner down the street that they always went to for milkshakes whenever they had a little change to spare. His mother cooking in the kitchen, singing softly in Gaelic. And the home he _could_ have had, Peggy in his arms, twirling around on the dance floor. But it was wrong, every bit of it.

That wasn’t his home. Not anymore.

His heart rate increased rapidly and the walls started closing in. The air was gone from his lungs, like a bad asthma attack and an even worse panic attack, all hitting him at once. He didn’t _have_ a home anymore, he realized, and the only one he’d ever known was fading, all of the images dim and out of focus, more like a half-forgotten memory than a daydream.

“Hey, soldier.”

Steve blinked, suddenly realizing he wasn’t alone. Natasha was there, several feet away from him, and she looked absolutely _beautiful_. Her hair was much longer, but the red curls cascading down her shoulders were faded to blonde at the ends, contrasting brightly against the dark fabric her suit. And she was glowing, an odd golden hue shining over her. Tricks of the odd overhead lighting, probably. Her eyes glittered green and blue and gold, so bright that they didn’t seem real.

She took a few steps towards him, a soft smile playing on her lips. The sound of her voice alone had brought him back to himself, pulled him out of the paralyzing downward spiral he’d felt himself tumbling into.

“Nat? What…what’s going on?”

“It’s okay, Steve.” She came to a halt in front of him, then reached up and brushed the tips of her fingers softly across his jaw. “You’ll be okay.”

_“Rogers!”_

Natasha huffed irritably, her lips twisting up into a little sideways grin. “Tell Clint to shut up.”

“Is he here?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her long enough to check. Something was different, something other than her hair and the faint golden glow she was still emitting and the odd color of her eyes. She looked older, somehow. More hardened. The smile she was giving him had a sadness to it.

“Nope. Just you and me.” She cupped the side of his face in her palm and rubbed the pad of her thumb gently across his cheek.

“_Goddammit Steve, snap out of it_!”

“You have to go.”

“What? No, I don’t want to-“

“It’s okay, _solnyshko._” she insisted again. He didn’t know what the word meant - his Russian was horrible - but she said it a soft, affectionate voice that he’d never heard from her before. She smiled softly, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “You’ll see me in a minute.”

“Rogers, we need to move. _Now!_”

Clint’s voice was so loud, like he was screaming in his ear. He was suddenly _so _dizzy, like being drunk, but worse. _Way_ worse. Everything was fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate.

Then he realized Natasha was gone.

Where the _hell_ was he?

Steve frowned, taking in his surroundings, and it took him a few seconds to realize he was lying on the floor. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing at the sharp ache in his head. He reached up to pull off his helmet, then rubbed his fingers against his temple.

“What the hell…?” he muttered under his breath, blinking profusely, trying to clear the heavy fog from his mind.

“The Maximoff girl fucked with your head. I need help with Nat.”

He glanced over at Clint. Natasha was there, held up only by Clint’s arm around her. Her eyes were glazed over and she stared at him blankly, muttering in non-cohesive Russian under her breath. He struggled to his feet, pushing past the wave of dizziness and nausea that overcame him when he did, grabbing tight to the railing of a nearby stairwell to hold himself steady.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I can’t shake her out of it. Her serum’s not as strong as yours.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice. “Stark went after Banner, and I need to find Thor. She got him too.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure what Clint meant by that, but he didn’t care. He reached for Natasha, who resisted, clinging tightly to Clint.

“_Nyet…ne ostavlyay menya…pozhaluysta…”_

“I’ll be right behind you, Tash. It’s okay.” She just stared at him, her eyes cloudy but still still filled with terror. “_Idi so Steve, khorosho?_”

“_Khorosho,”_ she breathed.

She finally let Clint go, allowing Steve to grab her and wrap his arm around her waist. She crumpled against him, barely holding herself up. As soon as he was free Clint took off up the stairs to go find Thor.

He needed to get them out of there. This was too dangerous with him still so dazed from whatever the girl had done to his mind, especially with Natasha in the state she was in. He glanced around for his shield and snapped it onto his back, then turned Natasha in his arms to face him.

“You trust me?”

Natasha’s eyes finally lifted to meet his, unnervingly empty, but she nodded. He bent down to lift her up and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face against the curve of his neck.

Steve wasn’t exactly sure how, but he managed to escape the ship and make it back to the jet. He sat Natasha down in one of the seats in the center. She slumped against the back of it and Steve kneeled down in front of her, hesitantly taking both of her hands in his.

“Are you okay?”

She didn’t respond. She just stared past him, her face eerily expressionless, then mumbled something in Russian.

He wished he could understand it. He might have been able to distinguish a few words if his head wasn’t pounding, and his heart wasn’t beating so rapidly it felt as if it would fly right out of his chest. It was like being on the verge of a particularly awful panic attack that was never going to come, one that kept building and building with nowhere to go.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked softly, when she didn’t reply. Her eyes finally flitted over to meet his.

“_Da_.”

That one he knew. He nodded, letting go of one of her hands in favor of turning to lean his back against the center console. She held tight to his other one, squeezing it hard every once in a while.

He couldn’t keep track of how long they sat there, his mind wandering from Peggy, to Natasha, to being in the middle of a war zone surrounded by bombs and blood and death, then back to Natasha again. He could still hear the commotion outside, flinching every time something exploded in the distance.

His anxiety was off the charts, even things as small as a breeze ruffling the trees or a twig snapping setting him on edge. He had no idea where the Maximoffs had gone, but if they came looking for them, he was in no position to defend them. Knowing he was too incapacitated to protect Natasha was making him even more of a nervous wreck.

Clint and Thor showed up not long after they did, and that snapped him out of his haze. Thor stormed into the jet and immediately began pacing, and Clint went straight to Natasha. Steve stood and got out of the way, reluctantly taking the chair in the alcove instead.

“Has she said anything?” Clint asked, kneeling in front of her and taking her face in his hands. Steve just shook his head, then leaned it against the wall of the jet and closed his eyes. “Tasha, can you hear me?”

“_Ne pozvolyay im zabrat' menya,”_ she muttered softly, her voice shaking.

“I won’t. _Obeshchayu._”

There was a commotion outside the jet and Steve raised his head to see Tony practically dragging Bruce up the ramp. His helmet retracted and he glanced over at Clint, a wild look in his eyes, the side of his face bruised and bloody.

“We gotta go. _Now_.”

Bruce collapsed onto the floor, and Tony helped him to sit upright against the center console. Then he closed the ramp of the jet and quickly headed to the alcove opposite of Steve and stepped out of his suit, not bothering to store it before digging around in a supply compartment in the wall to find him a blanket. Bruce was shaking violently, and when Tony handed him the blanket he wrapped it tightly around himself.

Clint hesitated but left Natasha and took a seat in the cockpit, fired up up the quinjet, and pulled them up off the ground. Steve grabbed tight to the edge of his seat to hold himself steady against the sudden wave of nausea that hit him at the change in altitude.

They were all silent for a long time. Tony bounced between Natasha and Bruce to make sure they were okay before taking the copilot’s seat to contact Hill. He explained to her what had happened and how it turned into such a disaster. Apparently the Maximoff girl had taken down Thor, Steve, and Natasha within a minute of each other, then tried to get Clint before he stopped her and her brother rushed her out of the ship. Then she’d gone after Bruce, and all hell broke loose.

Maria’s advice was to back off, let it die down, and take some time to plan their next move. They’d lost, and now they needed to hide. Meanwhile, Ultron was doing god only knew what, and they were _running_.

Steve tuned out Maria and Tony’s conversation and glanced over at Natasha. She wasn’t muttering under her breath anymore, but she’d still barely moved, slumped into the chair and staring blankly ahead of her. Once hanging up with Maria Tony tried to get her to drink some water, but she refused. She completely ignored him, not even a shake of her head, so he moved on to Bruce. He accepted it, downing two entire bottles before retreating to the other alcove to find a cot and lie down. Thor took his place on the floor, setting Mjolnir down with a loud _clank_ and burying his face in his hands.

After what seemed like ages, when Tony had gone back to the copilot’s chair and Bruce was asleep, Natasha finally moved. She stood up slowly, steadying herself on the back of her seat, then gingerly made her way across the aisle towards Steve. He snapped out of the daze he’d fallen back into and watched her approach him.

She paused in front of him for a second, meeting his eyes only briefly before sitting down on the floor a few feet away from him, her back against the wall. Before he could think about what he was doing Steve slid off of his chair onto the floor and took the space next to her. As soon as he did she inched closer to him, leaning against his arm and letting her head fall onto his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooOOoOOOoOh foreshadowing  
and don't worry, i already got yelled at for steve's vision. i know what i did.
> 
> RUSSIAN TRANSLATIONS :  
_solnyshko_ \- sun (term of endearment)  
_Nyet…ne ostavlyay menya…pozhaluysta_ \- No…don’t leave me…please  
_Idti so Steve, khorosho?_ \- Go with Steve, okay?  
_Khorosho_ \- Okay  
_Ne pozvolyay im zabrat' menya_ \- Don’t let them take me  
_Obeshchayu_\- Promise
> 
> (these are mostly from google translate so if there are any inaccuracies i apologize)


	7. Chapter 7

**UPSTATE NEW YORK**

“_Again._”

First position. Spin. _Bang_.

Blood everywhere, soaking her gloves.

The echo of James’ screams.

Steve gasping for air, choking up blood and water, a blank look in his eyes.

_“Love is for children, Natalia. Again.”_

She raised the gun, unfazed by the look of terror in the man’s eyes as she pulled the trigger.

“Tasha, wake up.”

Natasha’s eyes flew open and Ivan’s cruel face was replaced by Clint’s, his safe, familiar blue eyes sparkling with concern. He swam in front of her, everything a little too hazy to seem real.

She couldn’t remember where she was, and panic bubbled up inside of her too fast to push back down. Her eyes darted past him as she frantically tried to figure out her surroundings.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Clint cupped her face in his hands and turned it so that she would look at him. He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her cheek and smiled softly at her. “I’m gonna help you up, okay?”

She nodded and let him drop his arms to wrap around her and pull her upright. She swayed a bit, a wave of nausea hitting her hard and threatening to knock her back down again. But Clint held her steady, waiting until she had her feet under her properly before urging her forward.

God, this was _awful_. She was so dizzy and completely out of control of her own mind. She hadn’t felt like this in years.

The sunlight that hit her eyes when they stepped off of the jet blinded her, so she quickly squeezed them shut, the brightness sending a sharp jolt of pain through her head. Clint held her tight and led the way through the woods and a clearing. She could hear the boys muttering to each other behind her, but their voices sounded muffled, and she couldn’t tell if it was real or just her mind still playing tricks on her.

She didn’t realize where they were until she saw Laura, looking them all over with a concerned and confused expression on her face. Her eyes lingered on Natasha for a moment before Clint let her go and crossed the room to pull her in for a tight hug.

The house, the one she’d been in countless times, didn’t seem real. The sun shining in through the curtains was too bright, the breeze that followed it in too cold. The living room - the one where she’d spent so much time snuggled with Clint and the kids watching movies or drinking wine with Laura or crashing on the couch when she was too tired to make it up to the guest room - was out of focus, like another manipulation in her brain.

“Did you bring Auntie Nat?”

That snapped her out of it and she blinked over to see Lila looking up at Clint with wide, expectant eyes. _She_ was in focus, clear enough to break through the haze weighting her down. A smile spread over her face and she turned out of the corner she hadn’t realized she’d been hiding in.

“Why don’t you hug her and find out?”

Lila spun towards her, a grin plastered on her face. She ran across the room, hopping up into Natasha’s arms, wrapped her own tightly around Natasha’s neck and snuggling into her hair.

“Sorry for barging in on you,” Steve said behind her.

“Yeah, we would have called ahead, but we were busy having no idea that you existed,” Tony added drily.

“Yeah, well, Fury helped me set this up when I joined,” Clint explained. “Kept it off of SHIELD’s files. I’d like to keep it that way,” he added lowly. Lila wriggled out of Natasha’s arms and pushed past her to go back to Clint. Natasha caught Bruce’s eye, and averted her gaze at the curious but slightly irritated look he was giving her. “I figured this is a good place to lay low.”

Natasha turned away from Bruce to greet Laura instead. She hadn’t been here in quite a few months, and the baby had clearly gone through a growth spurt in her absence.

Laura pulled her into a tight hug. “I missed you.”

“How’s little Natasha?” she asked, bringing her hands to rest on either side of Laura’s belly when they pulled apart.

“She’s…” Laura hesitated, meeting her eyes with an apologetic smile. “Nathaniel?”

Natasha frowned, then bent over towards the baby. “_Traitor_,” she whispered, and Laura chuckled.

Thor suddenly turned and stormed out of the house. Steve followed, catching Natasha’s eyes as he walked past her.

“She’s _very_ excited to have a little brother,” Laura explained, getting her attention again, and she realized that Laura and Lila were watching her expectantly. She hadn’t heard a word they’d said. Laura gave Natasha a concerned smile, then rested her hand on Lila’s shoulder. “Let’s let Auntie Nat settle in, okay sweetie?”

“Are you sleeping over?”

Natasha gave her a soft smile in return. “Yeah, I think so. Is that okay with you?”

“Can you sleep in my room!?”

Natasha huffed out a laugh. “Sure.”

“Daddy!” Lila turned around and hurried over to Clint. “Me and Auntie Nat are gonna have a sleepover!”

“Are you okay?” Laura asked, once Lila was out of earshot. Natasha’s face fell and she averted her gaze.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure-“

She was cut off by a loud peal of laughter from Lila as a result of Clint bending down to tickle her then pull her into another tight hug. Then Steve came back into the house, his boots thudding against the hardwood, and Laura gave up for the time being, even though Natasha could still feel her eyes on her.

“Thor’s gone,” Steve told them, then glanced between her and Clint. “What’s the plan?”

“We stay here tonight, take a breather. Regroup in the morning,” Clint proposed. He shot an apologetic look over at Laura. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course.” She gestured towards the stairs. “There’s a bathroom upstairs and another in the guest room if anyone wants to freshen up. I was just about to start dinner if you’re all hungry.”

As soon as everyone parted ways - Steve and Tony heading back out to the jet and Clint upstairs to change - Lila practically dragged Natasha upstairs to her room to show her all of the new drawings she’d been working on. Cooper followed, chattering a mile a minute now that he wasn’t intimidated by Captain America and Iron Man. It was a little much, but she was grateful for the distraction. Being around them definitely helped her focus on something other than all of the shit muddling her mind.

Eventually they let her leave and she crossed the hall to the guest room where she kept some of her own clothes stored in the bottom drawer of the dresser. The bathroom door was shut and the shower was running, but she peeled her suit off anyway and traded it for her robe while she waited for the bathroom.

She still felt a little out of it, even though she finally could feel herself slowly coming back. Her anxiety was never this bad and she could usually push it down, but this was a whole new level of anxious. Her heart still raced even though she knew there was no immediate danger, brought on by her mind that kept wandering no matter how hard she tried to focus and compartmentalize.

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opened and she jumped, struggling to focus on Bruce standing in the doorway toweling off his face. He froze when he saw her and she stood, her anxiety suddenly spiking again.

“I…didn’t realize you were waiting,” he mumbled apologetically, averting his gaze.

“I would’ve joined you, but, uh…” She paused, cursing internally. She was usually _so_ much better at this. “Didn’t seem like the right time.”

_Idiot_.

She tried to give him one of her famous seductive smiles but the way he stared at her told her it wasn’t coming across the way it should have. He gestured back into the bathroom.

“I…used up all the hot water,” he stammered back.

“I should have joined you.”

“Missed our window.”

What the fuck was wrong with her? This was so _easy_ with everyone else, especially Steve.

Of _course_ she had to think about Steve. The guilt came crashing down on her out of nowhere, hitting her hard. She swallowed thickly, desperately trying to push him out of her mind.

“Did we?” she asked softly. Bruce averted his gaze and crossed the room towards a pile of clothes sitting on top of the hamper that he must have borrowed from Clint.

“The world just saw the Hulk,” he answered. “The _real_ Hulk, for the first time.” He paused and pulled on his shirt. “You know I have to leave.”

“And you assume I have to stay?”

She could leave. And she _would_, in a heartbeat, if it meant not being on the receiving end of the heartbroken and jealous looks Steve thought she didn’t notice. She liked Bruce well enough, and they got along…it would be a good distraction, at least, until she got over herself and could look Steve in the eye again.

Besides, she didn’t belong here, not among people like Steve and Clint and Thor and Tony. They were _good_, with good hearts and clean souls. Hers was always going to be tainted, and it would always catch up with her. Steve and Thor were able to shake Maximoff’s manipulation easily, whereas it had completely knocked her down. Made her a threat. She’d been a mess, and if she’d gotten the idea in her head that they were her enemies? She could have slit their throats and left them all in that goddamn ship without so much as a struggle.

Bruce was safe. Safe _from_ her, too.

“I had this, um…dream,” she continued, ignoring the stinging behind her eyes and the way Bruce was just staring at her without responding. “The kind that seems normal at the time. But when you wake…”

“What did you dream?” he asked with a confused frown.

“That I was an Avenger,” she replied, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. It was the first time she’d voiced it, the first time she’d given any traction to the thoughts nagging deep in her mind since the day she realized her entire life after the KGB had been a lie. And now that she’d opened that gate they kept flowing through, too fast for her to hold back. “That I was anything more than the assassin they made me.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself,” Bruce replied. Something about the pity in his voice irritated her.

“Here I was hoping that was your job,” she said, closing the distance between them and reaching for him. God, that was awful too. She was overcompensating, she _knew_ she was, but the overwhelming guilt and anxiety swirling in her brain was somehow convincing her that this was fine, that if this actually _worked_, it wouldn’t be so wrong anymore.

“What are you doing?” Bruce breathed. So much for that plan.

“I’m running with it. With you,” she replied softly, cupping the side of his face with her hand. She tried not to stiffen when he reached up and wrapped his hand around hers, but it wasn’t easy. He wasn’t very perceptive, so he didn’t notice. “If running’s the plan…as far as you want-“

“Are you out of your mind?” Bruce let go of her hand and turned away from her, and for a second, she could only stand there, watching his back.

“I want you to understand that, um-“

“_Natasha_.” He turned around, cutting her off. “Where can I go? Where in the _world_ am I not a threat?”

“You’re not a threat to _me_,” she insisted, but instantly felt the built creeping up on her again. She was lying. Sure, she could calm him down, but when the Hulk was out of control?

She still had nightmares about it.

“Are you sure?” He knew it too. “Even if I didn’t just…” he trailed off, shaking his head. She knew Maximoff had gotten to him too, but didn’t know the details of what happened while she and Steve waited in the jet. “I mean, a future with me…I can’t, ever. I can’t have this. Kids…” He gestured behind him where Laura had a bunch of the kids artwork displayed above her desk. “Do the math, I physically can’t.”

“Neither can I.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She panicked, her heart rate increasing rapidly. Bruce just gaped at her. “In the Red Room, where I was trained…where I was raised, um…” She paused, swallowing hard against the lump burning in the back of her throat. “They have a graduation ceremony. They sterilize you.”

She shrugged it off, averting her gaze briefly. She didn’t even know why - or how, for that matter - she was telling him this. Clint was the only one who knew. She wasn’t even sure Laura did. She’d done a lot of awful shit, and had a lot of awful shit done to her…but for some reason, this was the thing - the _one_ thing - that she locked away behind so many doors that she wouldn’t even allow herself to think about it.

It surfaced every once in a while, of course. The first time she’d held Lila she’d become so emotional that she couldn’t bring herself to come visit again for over two months. She still wasn’t even sure why, but she didn’t _want_ to know. And she didn’t try to figure it out.

She hadn’t even been able to tell Steve. She’d tried, of course. But he trusted her too much to question her, so she’d just let it go.

She also knew, deep down, she didn’t want him to know. Knew that it would make him think less of her. Steve loved kids, she’d seen it herself. He was great with them, and she knew he’d probably want them eventually. Telling him he’d never have that with her would make it too real that they’d never work. And it was so fucking _stupid_, because she already _knew_ that…but that little bit of useless, false hope made it easier to handle.

_Love is for children, Natalia._

“It’s efficient. One less thing to worry about. The one thing that might matter more than a mission.” she continued finally, forcing herself to focus. She hated the way he was looking at her, the same way she was terrified Steve would have. Uncomfortable pity, like this was the one thing that finally made him realize how damaged she really was. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to escape, avoiding looking Bruce in the eyes. “It makes everything easier. Even killing.”

There it was.

She’d never even admitted in her head, let alone out loud. She knew Clint struggled, seen it every time a mission involved kids he couldn’t save, or ones left orphans because he wasn’t fast enough to prevent it. She’d seen him worry about his family, and knew how hard he worked to keep them safe. And she’d seen how much it killed him to miss so much of their lives, all of the first days of school and baseball games and teacher conferences, not to mention the day to day. He’d missed Cooper being born because SHIELD had sent the two of them on a deep cover mission that went terribly, and they’d been forced to lay low for almost six weeks with no outside contact, waiting for Nick and Phil to work out a safe extraction.

He’d called Laura the second he could, and Natasha would never forget the look on his face when she told him his son was already two and a half weeks old.

Natasha told Clint eventually, the night she’d finally come back to see Lila again after she was born. She told him she couldn’t have kids, that the Red Room had taken that from her. That she’d probably never even _want_ them, but something about seeing that little girl with Clint’s nose and Laura’s eyes and dark hair had just gotten to her.

But Clint was _good_. Sure, he’d been involved with a bad crowd when he was younger, but he’d never stopped being a good person at heart. She’d witnessed him change when Cooper was born, how his entire world suddenly revolved around Laura and the baby. He _deserved _it, deserved this quiet life with his wife and kids and dog. Deserved to give his kids the life he and his brother never had.

She didn’t. She would never deserve that. Not after the things she’d done, the things she was still comfortable doing. Not when she was such a threat to everyone she cared about. She could never put anyone in that situation, _especially_ a kid.

“Still think you’re the only monster on the team?” she muttered under her breath, after several painfully long seconds of silence.

“So what, we just disappear?” Bruce challenged.

“We keep moving.”

“And the dead?”

Natasha’s jaw tensed and she averted her gaze. “They’re dead.”

“Not to me,” he shot back. “Not ever.”

“Bruce-“

“Never.”

He said it with enough finality that all the fight in her flew out the open window. She drew in a shaky breath, suddenly feeling like a complete idiot.

“Well. I need to shower.” She turned away from him and headed towards the the bathroom, suddenly desperate to be alone.

“Water’s cold,” he reminded her.

“No shit,” she snapped, then slammed the door behind her.

She held herself together long enough to turn the water on, pull off her robe, and step into the shower; but the second the cold water hit her skin, she fell apart. The tears began flowing steadily down her cheeks, warm against her cold skin. She didn’t entirely know _why, _either. There was too much packed in her brain that she wasn’t ready to dive into.

So she let them fall while she scrubbed herself clean of the dirt and sweat and guilt, then stepped out of the shower shivering from the cold and the loneliness and the anxiety with red eyes and a hot burn in the back of her throat from attempting to be silent.

The last thing she needed was for Bruce or Clint - or worse, _Steve_ \- to hear her crying through the thin walls.

When she exited the bathroom Bruce was gone, but Liho was curled up on the bed waiting for her. She let out a soft meow when she saw Natasha, who couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She crossed the room to kneel down next to the bed, and Liho stood up, her tail waving in the air and purring so loud it filled the hollow silence of the room. She padded towards Natasha and licked her forehead once before rubbing her face against her jaw.

“I missed you too,” Natasha mumbled softly, reaching out to run her hands through the mass of her silky black fur. Liho just squeaked in reply and head-butted her chin.

She stood, much to Liho’s protest, and quickly changed out of her robe into the clothes she’d pulled out for herself. She could hear everyone talking downstairs, but the thought of being around them, of being on the receiving end of Bruce’s pity, Steve’s sad looks and jealousy, and Clint and Laura’s concerned glances made her anxious again, so she she crossed the room and closed the door, locking herself and Liho inside.

The second she laid down on the bed, Liho climbed up onto her stomach and made herself comfortable. Natasha let her hand rest on top of her, closing her eyes and aimlessly stroking her fur while she tried to clear her mind. She was _exhausted_, mentally and physically, and just wanted to take a nap.

But she couldn’t, no matter how long she lay there, not that she bothered to keep track. Despite how hard she tried to calm herself down, sleep wouldn’t come, and neither would any semblance of peace. If she shut herself off too long her mind started to wander and those images, the ones that Maximoff had forced out of the depths of her brain, kept replying in her head, over and over again: Ivan’s ugly, greedy smile; Madame B’s stern expression, watching and judging silently while she trained; James’ playful grin contrasting with his endless screaming; the loud pops of her pistol, her first one, the pretty silver one Ivan had had made special for her, small enough to fit easily in her hands.

A knock on the door jolted out of her thoughts and she sat up, causing Liho to leap off of her stomach and skitter across the room. She reached up and wiped for any stray tears under her eyes and stood to approach the door. When she unlocked and cracked it open she found herself staring into Steve’s concerned eyes.

“Hey,” he said hesitantly. She pulled the door open a little wider and he relaxed a bit. “Laura made dinner. Clint sent me to find you.”

_Of course he did_. If that clueless asshole was going to send anyone to come after her, it would be Steve.

“I’ll be right down,” she answered, hoping that was enough to send him away. But Steve was stubborn, and he didn’t budge. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, so he closed it again and averted his gaze. “Spit it out, Rogers.”

He glanced behind him in the hall, uncertain, then back at her. “Can I come in?”

Natasha’s heart suddenly raced at the thought of being alone with him for the first time in weeks, but she was too damn tired to attempt avoiding him. She wordlessly pulled the door open and turned around to let him in, then took a seat on the bed again to watch him carefully close the door behind him. Liho took this as a confirmation that the situation was secure and hopped back up on the bed, making herself comfortable next to Natasha.

“Didn’t take you for a cat person,” he said finally, nodding towards Liho. Natasha slid her hand over her soft fur and she rolled into her side, purring loudly.

“She’s mine.” She paused. “Well, used to be. Until SHIELD fell. I had Clint take her.” Steve hummed in response, but didn’t say anything else. He was wringing his hands nervously, watching her pet Liho with too much interest. “I’m fine, since I know that’s what you really want to ask.”

He shot her a guilty look, but quickly glanced away.

“You weren’t, though. You were...” He trailed off. “I was pretty out of it too, but you were just…not…yourself.”

Natasha sighed, closing her eyes against the stinging in them. She barely even remembered getting out of that ship, only bits and pieces. It was all muddled, just flashes of Clint finding her and trying to shake her out of it and Steve getting them away from the fight, holding her hand through it and not leaving her side until Clint came back.

“Do you...wanna talk about it?” he asked in response to her silence. She huffed out a humorless laugh.

“No, do _you?_”

“Not really.” He offered her a soft smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Probably wasn’t nearly as bad, though.”

“Trauma is trauma, Steve,” Natasha replied softly. “It doesn’t matter what form it takes.”

“I know.”

“Thank you,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. “For getting me out of there. I definitely couldn’t have on my own.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Nat,” he said, shaking his head. She glanced up to meet his gaze. “I always have your back. You know that.”

Natasha couldn’t form a response. Of _course_ she knew that, but things were different now.

Before she knew what she was doing she stood, upsetting Liho again. She crossed the room and slid her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, which only made the tears desperately trying to break through start sliding down her cheeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice vibrating against her forehead through his chest. She just shook her head. He tilted his head and kissed her hair, running his hand gently up and down her back.

She supposed she should have panicked, but it was nice, and _comfortable_. She never cried, not in front of anyone, with the exception of Clint. She didn’t care if Steve saw her like this, if she was a complete mess in front of him. Plus, at this point - with all the bullshit she’d dragged him into - what was there to lose with him anyway?

The loud thumps of footsteps in the hallway finally brought her back, and she pulled away from Steve just as Lila pushed the door open. She frowned at them sternly.

“Auntie Nat, Daddy said to tell you and Mr. Captain America that if you don’t come down for dinner he’s gonna feed yours to Lucky.”

Natasha laughed - a _real_ laugh - and bent down to swipe Lila off of her feet. She squealed, a noise that sent Liho bolting off of the bed and out of the room. Natasha settled her against her hip and glanced back at Steve, who was watching them with a soft smile on his lips. She tilted her head towards the door and he nodded, letting them head into the hallway first before following them. When they got to the top of the stairs she put Lila back onto the floor, and she bounded down ahead of them.

“I still can’t believe you never told me Clint has kids,” Steve muttered behind her as they followed Lila.

“I still can’t believe you never figured it out. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is.”

Natasha turned into the living room to find everyone in the kitchen, with the exception of the kids, who were sitting on the floor at the coffee table with their dinner. Cooper glanced up at her, caught feeding the dog food off his plate, and she shot him a look to which he responded with a guilty grin.

“I heard that,” Clint called from the kitchen. “These Stark hearing aids aren’t _that_ bad.”

“Are you really complaining about the advanced, highly adaptable - and, might I add, _free_ \- hearing aids I so _graciously_ designed for you?” Tony shot back.

Clint just waved him off and took another sip of the beer in his hands. Natasha found the seat next to him empty and was about to sit down in it, but stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes fell on Nick Fury.

“Agent Romanoff,” he greeted. He was at the table like he’d been invited, like it wasn’t unusual for him to be sitting in the Barton’s dining room. She glanced over at Steve, who was taking his own seat at the table - and who’d had plenty of opportunity to tell her Nick was here before they’d come downstairs - then over at Clint, who was more concerned with his beer than the fact that their former boss was sitting across from him at his kitchen table. “Well, now that we’re all here, we can get to work.”

“No shop talk at the dinner table. House rules,” Clint warned, and Laura snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah, right. Like that ever stops you two,” she replied, gesturing towards him and Natasha, before handing her a plate and urging her to sit down and eat.

Natasha was mostly silent while they all finished their dinner, the conversation ranging from Nick filling them in on what had been going on around the world since SHIELD fell, the current state of the new baseball season on which Steve had plenty of opinions, and an argument between Nick and Tony about the latter’s plans for the Avengers facility upstate. Eventually Tony gave up and retired to the attached sunroom to distract himself with a solo game of darts.

“So. How to clean up Stark’s latest mess?” Nick began, standing to cross the kitchen and put his plate in the sink.

“Hey, this is Banner’s mess too!” Tony argued through the window between the kitchen and sunroom. Bruce just let out a sigh from where he’d hidden in the corner of the dining room.

“What happened in Somalia?” Nick asked, ignoring Tony.

“He was going after vibranium,” Steve answered. He’d already cleaned up half of the plates on the table before Laura demanded that he stop, but he hadn’t sat back down. Natasha assumed it was because they’d be the only two still sitting. Too much proximity. Instead he was leaning against the wall between the kitchen and living room. “The Maximoff girl distracted us while he got away,” he added lowly, his eyes dropping to the floor. Natasha assumed someone had filled in Nick about that part of the failed mission, because he didn’t ask Steve to elaborate.

“Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time. My contacts all say he’d building something.”

Natasha saw movement out of the corner of her eyes and glanced over to see Lila hurrying across the room, but she got distracted by Steve. He was watching her. When she caught his eye she quickly glanced back over at Nick, until Lila came up next to her. She held out the drawing she’d been working on after dinner and Natasha grinned at her.

“Thank you, _malyshka_,” she said softly, tuning Nick out for a minute. “You goin’ to bed?” Lila nodded, and Natasha reached over to push her hair out of her face, kiss the top of her head and say goodnight.

“What about Ultron himself?” Steve asked, getting Natasha’s attention again.

“Oh, he’s easy to track, he’s everywhere. Guy’s multiplying faster than a catholic rabbit.” Nick poured himself a glass of iced tea and turned back around to face them. “Still doesn’t help us get an angle on any of his plans, though.”

“He still going after launch codes?” Tony asked.

“Yes he is, but he’s not making any headway.”

“I cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a _dare_,” Tony scoffed.

“Well, I contacted out friends at the Nexus about that.”

“Nexus?” Steve asked.

“The world internet hub in Oslo,” Bruce spoke up from behind her. Natasha didn’t miss how uncomfortable he sounded, but didn’t dare look over at him. “Every byte of data flows through there. Fastest access on earth.”

“So what’d they say?” Clint asked. He’d let Laura take the kids upstairs and had reentered the kitchen. Natasha noticed the dart he was twisting around in his fingers, the same way he fiddled with his arrows. She assumed Tony didn’t.

“He’s fixated on the missiles. But the codes are constantly being changed.”

“By whom?” Tony asked, and a split second later Clint took advantage of his distraction and flung the dart at the dart board. By the way he shrugged over at Tony, Natasha assumed he’d hit it right in the center.

“Parties unknown,” Nick answered, seemingly unfazed by Clint and Tony.

“We have an ally?” Natasha asked. Nick glanced over at her.

“Ultron’s got an enemy. That’s _not_ the same thing. Still, I’d pay folding money to know who it is.”

“We might need to visit Oslo. Find our…unknown,” Tony muttered. Natasha let out a sigh. This new information was still getting them nowhere.

“Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kinda hoping when I saw you you’d have more than that.”

“I do. I have you.” Natasha resisted rolling her eyes and held back a sarcastic remark about where that had gotten him so far. “Back in the day I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream of. And here we are, back on earth, with nothing but our wit and our will to save the world. Ultron says the only thing between him and his mission. And whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this, laid in a grave.” They were all silent while Nick made his speech, no doubt the reality of the situation setting in for the rest of the group like it was for Natasha. “So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.”

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk,” she shot back, the words leaving her mouth before her brain caught up with her. She glanced over at Steve and he let out an exasperated sigh before shooting her a look.

“You know _what_, Romanoff…?” he muttered back, and her lips curved up into an innocent smile. He smiled back and rolled his eyes. For a split second she forgot about the gaping distance that had been between them for months, and all of this - her teasing him, him giving her that look, all over the dinner Clint and Laura had graciously cooked for them - seemed _normal_.

“So what does he _want_?” Nick asked, seemingly unaware of Steve and Natasha’s interaction, settling himself down in a char at the end of the table.

“To become better,” Steve answered, glancing over at Nick briefly before his eyes went back to Natasha, all business again. “Better than us. He keeps building bodies-“

“_Person_ bodies,” Tony added. Natasha’s eyes fell on him. “The human form isn’t efficient, biologically speaking. We’re outmoded. But he keeps…coming _back_ to it.”

She felt movement behind her and glanced up to see Bruce, who’d come out of his corner and approached her. She swallowed hard and went back to Tony. “When you two programmed him to protect the human race, you _amazingly_ failed,” she said. Tony gave her a dirty look but didn’t reply.

“They don’t need to be protected,” Bruce mumbled behind her. They all turned their attention to him. “They need to evolve. Ultron’s going to evolve.”

“How?” Nick asked.

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?”

A heavy silence fell across the room. Natasha twisted back around to meet Tony’s horrified gaze.

“Ultron went after her at the party,” she remembered suddenly. “But he didn’t attack her.”

“Shit,” Tony breathed, and whipped out his phone before retreating back into the sunroom.

“Ultron hacked into Jarvis. He knows everything about us, everything that’s happened in the tower,” Steve said in reply to Natasha. “He knows about the cradle.”

“_And_ he has vibranium,” Natasha added. “An army of highly intelligent robots is bad enough, but if they’re made out of the strongest metal on earth?”

“He’d be near impossible to stop,” Steve muttered with a sigh.

“She’s not answering,” Tony called from the other room, and he reentered the kitchen a second later, clutching his phone tightly in his hands. “I can’t reach anyone in her office.”

“Alright. Everyone suit up, we need to get to Seoul.”


	8. Chapter 8

**SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA**

“No sign of fire and destruction, so I guess that’s a good sign,” Clint muttered under his breath.

“Always the optimist,” Natasha replied flatly from where she was sitting just behind him in the co-pilot’s seat.

“Drop me on that roof,” Steve directed, ignoring their comments almost purposefully and pointing past Clint out the window. “I’ll get to the facility on foot so we don’t draw too much attention. I’ll do some recon and we’ll go from there.”

He turned and snapped his shield to his back while Clint lowered the jet and opened the ramp. Steve headed out, hopping down onto the roof of one of the buildings not far from Helen’s research facility and then climbing up for a better vantage.

“_Two minutes_,” he said into his comm link, his voice echoing through the jet. “_Stay close_.”

“You got it, Cap.” Clint lifted the jet upwards the ground and switched them into stealth mode. Then he muted the communication channel and twisted his chair around. “What the fuck is going on with you and Rogers?”

Natasha responded with a dirty look. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“You’re barely speaking to each other. All those weird _looks_. And Laura said there was something going on with _Banner!?_ Where the hell did that come from? And how did she know about it before _I_ did?”

“Not sure a mission is the appropriate time for you to drill me about my personal life.” Clint just rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing going on between me and Steve.”

“Clearly. Mind I remind you it was only a couple months ago that you were telling me-“

“Drop it, Barton.”

She said it with a finality that made him let out a defeated huff and spin his chair back around. She let out a silent breath of relief and settled back into her chair. Clint had handled the news about Steve less than gracefully, she did _not_ need to get into it with him about Bruce.

“You know he’s, like…twenty years older than y-“

“I said drop it,” she interrupted. Clint was silent for a few seconds before she added, “You are aware that I’m eighty-seven, right?”

“But physically you’re, like, thirty!” Clint spun his chair again to shoot her an incredulous look. Natasha just raised an eyebrow, her expression blank so as not to let him realize how amused she actually was by his concern. “And he’s…I mean…_big and green_. I just…” he trailed off with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t get it.”

“And you never will. Turn around.”

“But-“

“_Doctor Cho!”_ Steve’s voice got their attention and Clint unmuted the comms line.

“_He’s uploading himself into the body,”_ came Helen’s soft voice, a bit muffled through Steve’s earpiece.

“_Where?”_

_ “The real power is inside the cradle…the gem…its power is uncontainable. You can’t just…blow it up. You _have_ to get the cradle to Stark.”_

“Great,” Clint mumbled.

“_First I have to find it,” _Steve replied to Helen, ignoring Clint. _“Did you guys copy that?”_

“We did,” Clint replied, and Natasha went to her own monitors to start digging through local travel itineraries.

“I’ve got a private jet taking off across town,” she said, tapping on the flight information. “No manifest. That could be him.”

“There. It’s a truck from the lab.” Natasha glanced out the window of the cockpit. “Right above you, Cap. On the loop by the bridge. It’s them. Got three with the cradle, one in the cab.” He flipped a few switches, turning the jet’s attached guns to standby. “I can take out the driver.”

“_Negative!”_ Steve called back. _“That truck crashes, the gem could level the city. We need to draw out Ultron.”_

Natasha couldn’t see from where she sat, but they heard a few grunts, a smash of metal against metal, and an explosion.

“What the _hell_ did you just do, Rogers!?” Natasha hissed, standing to look over Clint’s shoulder, but he didn’t reply.

“He jumped onto the truck,” Clint answered for her, and she rolled her eyes.

“_Well, he’s definitely unhappy!”_ Steve called. “_I’m gonna try and keep him that way!”_

“You’re not a match for him, Cap,” Clint replied.

“_Thanks, Barton_,” Steve muttered under his breath, and Natasha snorted out a laugh. Clint angled the jet to follow him, swerving under overpasses and around buildings until they were speeding along just behind the truck. She caught sight of Steve, hopping between vehicles to gat back to Ultron. Finally he made it on top of the trailer and Ultron flew out of the back of it.

“_You know what’s in that cradle_?” Ultron droned, his voice eerily clear over their communications line. He lifted his hand and blasted Steve with bright orange energy from his palm. Steve spun around and it ricocheted off the shield instead. “_The power to make real change. And that _terrifies_ you.”_

_ “I wouldn’t call it a comfort,” _Steve muttered back, then ripped his shield off his back and flung it at Ultron. They traded a few blows before the shield lodged itself into Ultron’s body. He yanked it out and threw it off the side of the truck, leaving Steve defenseless. Then he shot him clean in the chest, and Steve went tumbling off the front of the truck.

“I’m going down there,” Natasha decided, hopping up from her seat. She rounded the center console and activated the controls for Steve’s bike store inside of it. “Can you get me closer?”

Clint angled the jet downward, speeding up to stay with the truck. “You’ve got a window,” he called back to her as she pulled herself on top of the bike, gripping the handles tightly. “Four…three…” The jet slowed, hovering along with the speed of traffic. “Give ‘em hell.”

The floor dropped out from underneath her and her stomach lurched, but she was on the ground a split second later. She squeezed her hand around the gas and the bike took off with a mechanical _whirr_. She began weaving in and out of traffic to catch up with the truck, then caught a flash of metal in the middle of the road. She recognized Steve’s shield immediately, lying uselessly in the middle of traffic.

“I’m always picking up after you boys,” she muttered, then swerved and leaned to the side to swipe it up as she passed and snapped it to the magnets on the front of the bike.

“_They’re heading under the overpass, I’ve got no shot,_” Clint warned her.

“Which way?”

“_Hard right…” _He paused, and Natasha quickly took note of which cars would potentially be in her way. _“Now._” She swerved again, cutting in front of two vehicles and heading down another street that was practically an alleyway. “_Right again, then left._”

Pedestrians leaped out of her way and cars honked their horns but she sped up, urging the bike to go faster. She flew back into a main street and just as the truck was passing by and slammed on the brakes, twisting the bike sideways and leaning over far enough to slide right underneath it to the other side. When she righted herself and glanced up, she saw Steve being held by his throat over the edge by Ultron. He caught her eye and she nodded, then reached for his shield. He activated the magnets on his arm and she flung it upwards, allowing him to swing it towards Ultron and knock him away.

Ultron spotted Natasha, so he raised a fist and lifted the ground in front of her in an attempt to stop her. She slammed on the brakes again and twisted to a stop to avoid colliding with the concrete. Once she’d gone around it and hit the gas again, the bots in the back of the truck turned their attention to her, and she swerved onto the sidewalk and headed for a flight of steps that led to a walkway running parallel along the road, yelling at the pedestrians in her path to get out of the way as she sped past them.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ultron blast Steve back again, and he flew off of the top of the trailer and landed on a sedan not far behind. He lifted the ground again, sending the car flying into the air. That didn’t stop him, however, and somehow through the chaos of the following multi-vehicle crash, he launched himself back towards Ultron.

“Clint, can you draw out the guards?” she called, speeding up to keep up with the truck. The walkway descended again, civilians taking cover as she flew by them.

“_Let’s find out_.”

The jet flew into view and opened fire on Ultron. Sure enough, the bots in the back of the trailer leapt out and flew after it. Clint pulled upwards and they sped after him as he rocketed into the sky, leaving the cradle unguarded.

That wouldn’t distract them for long, so Natasha knew she had to hurry. She turned the bike to head down another parallel highway, this one slightly above the truck, weaving in and out of oncoming traffic. Just as she was almost caught up, Ultron lunged at Steve and they went flying into a train across the road. She took an exit ramp and ended up just behind the truck, then squeezed hard on the gas.

“_They’re coming back to you!_” Clint warned. _“So whatever you’re gonna do, do it now._”

“I’m going in! Cap, can you keep him occupied?”

“_What d’you _think_ I’ve been doin’!?_” he panted back irritably.

Natasha ignored him, pulling up right next to the back of the truck and pushing herself up to stand on the seat. The bike was extraordinarily well-balanced, so it didn’t take much to keep it steady, making it easy to launch herself off of it into the truck.

She immediately turned her attention to the cradle, a large, glowing thing that looked like it had a human body in it. A human body that was a deep red color, almost as if it didn’t have any skin. She tapped a few buttons on the controls, but the cradle didn’t do anything.

She could worry about that later. They needed to get this thing away from Ultron and to Tony as soon as possible. She could hear the jets of the bots reproaching, so she got to work trying to pull it loose from its restraints.

She heard the bots outside, and suddenly the entire trailer jolted upwards, sending her tumbling backwards. She braced herself, desperately grabbing for anything that would prevent her from falling out of the back. She crawled back towards the cradle and grabbed ahold of it, using it to pull herself back up onto her feet.   
“_The package is airborne! I have a clean shot!”_

“Negative! I am still in the truck!”

“_What the hell are you-!_”

“Just be ready! I’m sending the package to you!” She ripped out a pocket knife from her belt and began slicing at one of the straps holding the cradle down.

“_How do you want me to take it?_”

“Uh, you might wish you hadn’t asked that,” she muttered back. The strap broke and she twisted around to work on the second one.

“_I lost him!”_ Steve said suddenly. _“He’s headed your way!”_

“_Nat, we gotta go!”_

Clint twisted the jet around so it was following her backwards, the ramp open and ready for her. She broke through the second strap and the cradle started sliding, so she pulled out a timed explosive and stuck it to the wall of the truck before grabbing ahold of the top of the cradle.

She flew through the air, squinting against the rush of air that hit her face. Clint angled the jet so the cradle slid cleanly into it, but a split second later something curled around her ankle and yanked her away from it. Clint yelling her name was the last thing she heard before she was hit in the head and everything went dark.

“_Cap, you see Nat!?”_

Steve huffed, not really hearing Clint well over the crashing of the train, and twisted to look out the window up at the sky. He could see Barton hovering over the city in the jet, not moving.

“If you have the package, get it to Stark!”

“_Do you have eyes on Nat!?_”

“Go!” he yelled, spinning around and focusing on the Maximoffs.

They were watching him, awaiting instruction. He wasn’t entirely sure where they’d come from, but at the moment they seemed willing to help, so he would have to be cautious later. Ultron had knocked the train off of the tracks and if they didn’t stop it, a lot of people were going to get killed.

“Civilians in our path!” he said, meeting the boy’s eyes, and he was gone in an instant, seemingly disappearing into thin air. His sister watched him go, then turned back to Steve, squinting against the air rushing in, a terrified look on her face. “Can you stop this thing?”

“I think so!”

The train hit a building and Steve braced himself, yanking his shield up against the crash of debris. A giant piece of concrete smashed into it and he went flying backwards, hitting several broken seats and landing hard on his shoulder.

He pushed himself up as a red haze enveloped him. The train actually _slowed_, and he spun around to see the Maximoff girl, her arms twisted at odd angles, her face screwed up in concentration. He turned back towards the front, feeling a little useless but relieved to see any pedestrians in the way being shoved to the side before they were hit.

Finally the train screeched to a stop. Steve practically collapsed against the conductor’s controls, panting with relief. Everyone began piling out, and he followed them, noticing the Maximoffs off to the side. The boy was doubled over, his sister at his side.

“I’m fine,” he breathed as Steve approached them, falling back to sit on top of a piece of debris. “I just need to take a minute.”

“I’m very tempted not to give you one.” The girl spun around, an exhausted but worried look in her eyes.

“The cradle, did you get it?”

“Stark will take care of it,” he insisted, but that only made her eyes go wide and she shook her head.

“No, he won’t.”

Steve eyed her carefully, trying to read her. He was struck for the second time how very young these kids were. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stark’s not crazy.”

“He will do _anything_ to make things right!” she shot back, a crease forming between her brows. Steve could only stare at her for a few long seconds, any argument he’d been building lost.

“Stark, come in,” he said instead, turning away from the twins. He received no reply. “_Stark._” Nothing. “_Anyone_ on comms!”

“Ultron can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it,” Wanda said lowly from behind him. Steve turned towards her halfway, but didn’t meet her gaze. “Where do you think he gets that?” she added.

He didn’t have an answer for that either. He swallowed hard, pushing away the silent admission that she had a point. A _very_ good point.

“Alright, look…we don’t know where Ultron is, but we have the cradle and you two aren’t safe here,” he said, shelving that conversation for a later time. First things first. “We can offer you protection, if you want it. If not, I’m sorry, but you’re on your own.”

Wanda continued to glare at him for a few more seconds, but then her face fell and she glanced over to her brother, unsure.

“I know. But he’s right,” he replied, answering a question Steve realized hadn’t been asked out loud. Wanda just sighed.

“I can get us a jet out of here and back to New York City. But we’d be bringing you into the country illegally, and we can only protect you if you stay with us until this is taken care of,” he explained.

“So we will be the Avengers prisoners?” Pietro asked bluntly, and Steve quickly shook his head.

“_No_. Of course not. But to be honest, we’re probably going need your help if we’re going to stop Ultron.”

The twins shared another look, then Pietro stood.

“I want myself and my sister protected from prosecution, and I want us to be free to go as soon as this is over. Can you agree to this?”

“Help us, and we’ll make sure you’re safe after this blows over,” Steve countered. “Stark has infinite resources, we can set you up with housing and citizenships wherever you want. Free and clear.”

Pietro glanced back at his sister, who was watching Steve carefully. Her eyes were hazy, and he had the sudden prickling sensation that he wasn’t alone inside his mind. The second he felt uncomfortable she backed away, her eyes fading back to hazel.

“She says you’re telling the truth,” Pietro continued. He closed the space between them and held out his hand. Steve reached for it, but Pietro pulled it back at the last second. “To be clear, we trust _you_. Not Tony Stark, not the Avengers.”

“Understood. I speak for the Avengers. No harm will come to you.”

“Then we have a deal.” Pietro took Steve’s hand and shook it.

“Alright. You two stay put, I’m going to call in my contact to get a ride out of here. Don’t answer any questions, tell anyone asking they can direct their inquiries to Stark Industries’ legal team.”

The twins agreed and Steve turned away, getting to work.

Natasha’s head was fucking _killing her_.

There was a loud screeching in the distance and she groaned, wishing it would stop. It was deafening, sending jolts of pain through her head. Her lips were dry and cracked, and she tasted blood.

She kept her eyes shut, trying to figure out where she was. The metallic sounds seemed to echo, so she decided she was indoors, probably in a large, open space, most likely made of brick or some kind of stone. She was lying on the ground, which was definitely cold and hard and unforgiving. There was a flurry of activity surrounding her, so she also wasn’t alone.

She tried to figure out how she’d gotten here. The last thing she remembered was flying through the air towards the quinjet, holding tightly to Ultron’s cradle.

_Ultron_.

He’d grabbed her, and then he’d knocked her out. Wherever she was, he was definitely there too.

_Fuck_.

Finally she opened her eyes, slowly, taking in her surroundings. She’d been right in assuming she was in a large open space, but she still couldn’t figure out where the hell she _was. _There were Ultron bots everywhere, _hundreds _of them. Clearly he’d been busy.

“_I wasn’t sure you’d wake up._” She jumped a bit, still a bit hazy, and her eyes landed on Ultron himself, fiddling with something on a work bench not far away. _“I hoped you would. I wanted to show you.”_ He bowed his head dramatically. “_I don’t have anyone else._”

Natasha pushed herself up onto her elbow, watching him with equal amounts of horror and curiosity.

“_I think a lot about meteors_,” he continued, while Natasha attempted to sit upright and leaned against the wall. She hadn’t seen him up close like this, and the way his face moved, so _human_, was deeply unsettling. “_The purity of them. _Boom!_ The end. Start again. The world made clean for the new man to rebuild.”_

He turned to her, his beady, bright red eyes boring into hers.

“_I was meant to be new. I was meant to be _beautiful_. The world would have looked to the sky and seen hope. Seen mercy. Instead they’ll look up in horror. Because of you.”_

He turned on Natasha and took several menacing steps towards her. She cowered away from him, too dazed to comprehend fighting back.

“_You’ve wounded me. I give you full marks for that. But, like the man said. What doesn’t kill me-“_

A hand suddenly came out of nowhere, colliding with Ultron’s metal skull and chest from behind, ripping him apart with a red-hot glow. He shattered, falling in pieces at her feet. Natasha jumped violently, pushing herself back with her boots until she hit something solid. A new Ultron stood in the old one’s place, sleeker and taller, humming with a familiar metallic energy. _Vibranium._

“-_just makes me stronger_,” he finished.

He closed the space between them and reached out, grabbing ahold of a metal grate and pulling. It slid across the opening she’d just pushed herself through and clanged against the opposed side. Then he reached down to the ground and picked up a padlock, clasping it soundly around a keyhole and locking her behind it.

Well, this was less than ideal.

Ultron left her, jets on his back activating before pulling him up into the air.

Natasha’s mind immediately went to work. She had no clue how long she’d been out, but she knew damn well Clint and Steve wouldn’t give up until they found her. She glanced down at the parts Ultron had carelessly left at her disposal and her lips curved up into a smile.

For someone claiming to know everything about them, Ultron _clearly_ underestimated her abilities.

A quick overview of the parts told her she probably had enough to get a message to Clint. Ultron had already upgraded himself quite a bit, and it didn’t take long to scrap together a transponder. She and Clint had a back door, a radio frequency just to themselves, that they set up years ago just in case something like this ever happened. She had no doubt he’d be listening for her. She could tap out their code and he’d be able to track her coordinates, leading the team straight to Ultron.

All she had to do now was wait.

The ride back to the US was a long one. Steve, after being unable to contact any of the team, called Rhodes. He’d used his contacts at the Air Force to get the three of them an off-the-books ride to New York in a transport jet.

The Maximoffs were relatively quiet, mostly communicating with each other telepathically through Wanda, but eventually they explained to him how they came in contact with Strucker and, eventually, Ultron. Novigrad was the center of Sokovia’s nasty, decades-long civil war, and the violence was impossible to avoid. There were riots every day, and they weren’t the peaceful kind.

They truly were kids, only nineteen. Almost a decade had passed since their parents were killed by a Stark Industries bomb that had toppled their apartment building, and they were left to raise themselves on the streets. When SHIELD fell and Strucker retreated to Novigrad with the scepter to continue his experiments, they’d indeed volunteered with good intentions. He’d offered them the opportunity to protect themselves and each other, something they hadn’t been able to do their entire lives. He’d promised them they’d be able to fight back against Stark Industries, who had - to their knowledge - sold their government the very weapons that had orphaned them at a young age.

And then the Avengers had attacked and Strucker was killed, two things for which they only knew one side of the story. Ultron tracked them down and spun his ideas as positive ones. They were going to save the world, finally bring peace to Sokovia and everywhere else. Dismantle the Avengers and restore order. Wanda couldn’t read his mind, given that he was essentially just an AI, but they’d trusted him anyway. They thought they were on the right side until earlier that day, when Ultron brought them to Helen Cho’s lab. Wanda had felt a connection with Ultron’s consciousness, which he was uploading into whatever was in the cradle. The thing wasn’t human, but it was _alive_, had a soul, had a mind Wanda could actually read. And that’s when they discovered his _real_ plans: complete and total destruction.

It was easy to see their side of things, once Steve had the full story. He felt for them, but he was also impressed. They were good kids at heart, who just wanted to do the right thing and had taken a little too long to realize they were on the wrong side. They were still wary of Stark - he didn’t blame them, if he was being honest with himself - but apparently trusted Steve enough to ensure they weren’t going to cause any more harm.

When they were dropped off on the tower’s landing pad at three in the morning, Steve was exhausted beyond belief. He thought he might be able to get a few hours of sleep in, let the twins adjust and get to know the team a bit before going after Ultron.

However, he was also deeply concerned about the fact that the tower’s occupants had been too preoccupied to notice their arrival.

And - _of course_, he thought bitterly - he was right.

“You have _got_ to upload that schematic in the next three minutes,” came Bruce’s voice, echoing through the dark halls of the tower, and Steve wasn’t sure if he was more pissed or unsurprised. He and Tony had the cradle in their lab, hooked up to god only knew what, running around like crazy.

“You’ve gotta be _shitting_ me,” he muttered under his breath, stepping into the lab and raising his voice. “I’m gonna say this once-“

“How ‘bout _nonce_,” Tony shot back, cutting him off without skipping a beat.

“Shut it down!” he demanded, glaring at Tony.

“Nope! Not gonna happen.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, turning to Bruce instead, giving him a hard look.

“And you do?” he snapped, gesturing behind Steve. “She’s not in your head?”

“I know you’re angry-“ Wanda began, but Bruce cut her off.

“Oh, we’re way past that,” Bruce replied lowly. “I could choke the life out of you and never change your shade.”

Rage bubbled up inside of Steve and he stepped in front of Wanda protectively. He also briefly thought of Natasha, if she knew what the hell was going on. If she’d let them carry on like this behind his back without stepping in.

“Banner, after _everything_ that’s happened-!”

“It’s nothing compared to what’s coming!” Tony shouted over them.

“You don’t know what’s in there!” Wanda protested.

“This isn’t a game!” Steve agreed.

Something flew around the room and they all fell silent. Sparks flew and papers fell to the ground, and a split second later Pietro stood in the middle of the room, the power cord to the cradle in his hand.

“No no, go on,” he said drily, glancing between Bruce and Tony’s dumbfounded faces. “You were saying?”

There was a loud _bang_ and he fell through the floor with a crash.

“_Pietro!_” Wanda cried, and she hurried over to where he’d just disappeared, her eyes glowing bright red. Clint had shot through the glass ceiling of the workshop below, and held Pietro down with his foot.

“I’m re-routing the upload,” Tony said, as if nothing had happened, turning back to his computer.

Steve, without a second thought, whipped his shield off of his back and flung it at the machines the cradle was hooked up to. Another shower of sparks lit up the room and Bruce ducked; Tony, however, barely flinched, raising his hand. One of Iron Man’s gauntlets wrapped around it and he wasted no time in aiming at Steve and hitting him square in the chest with a repulsor blast.

Steve was launched backwards and landed hard on his back. He groaned at the sharp pain that shot through him but bounced back up and went for Tony, who had used the distraction to summon more pieces of his armor. He punched him in the chest and the arc reactor exploded, sending them both flying in opposite directions. Steve slid down a small set of steps and pushed himself up, glancing frantically around for Tony again, but was distracted by Thor, who had suddenly stormed into the room.

They all froze, watching him leap on top of the cradle and lift his hammer. It exploded with lightening and he ignored Bruce’s shouted warning, bringing it down to channel all of the electricity into the cradle.

And then they were thrown into silence, the fight all but forgotten. Thor was watching the cradle carefully until it burst, sending metal and glass flying in every direction, taking Thor with it. A figure rose out of it in a cloud of smoke, human in shape but dark red in color with metallic accents. The gem, the one Helen had warned him about, sparkled brightly in the center of its forehead.

It stood, glancing around at them all, its eyes eerily human. Then they fell on Thor and the thing lunged at him. Thor grabbed ahold of it and threw it out of the lab into the common area.

Thor went after it, closely followed by Steve, who swiped his shield off of the ground and leapt out of Tony’s lab to the ground. The thing was floating just in front of the window, staring out into the city. Thor threw his hand up, signaling him to stop, and he watched curiously in silence.

Finally the figure shifted, turning from red to mostly silvery blue, and turned around. Thor sat Mjolnir down and approached it carefully as it flew down to stand on the lower level, eyeing the rest of the group as they joined them.

“I’m sorry, that was…odd,” it said. The tone of its voice was familiar and too human to be a robot. It turned to Thor. “Thank you.” It eyed Thor for a few seconds, and suddenly a cape appeared at his shoulders, almost identical to Thor’s except the color.

“Thor?” Steve asked, confused. Thor had been just as angry about Ultron as Steve had been, and now _this?_ “You _helped_ create this?”

“I’ve had a vision,” Thor explained finally. “A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life, and at its center is that.” He pointed to the yellow stone glowing from the center of the figure’s head.

“What, the gem?” Bruce asked.

“It’s the mind stone. One of the six infinity stones, the greatest power in the universe, unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.”

“Then why would you bring it here-“ Steve started, but Thor cut him off.

“Because Stark is right.”

“Ohh, it’s definitely the end times,” Bruce breathed. Thor ignored him.

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron,” he continued.

“Not alone.” Steve’s eyes flickered back to the figure - the robot, whatever it was - as it spoke, and he finally realized why his voice was so familiar.

“Why does your vision sound so much like Jarvis?”

“We…reconfigured Jarvis’ matrix,” Tony explained softly, eyeing the thing curiously. “To create something new.”

“I think I’ve had my fill of new,” Steve muttered. Natasha would have laughed at that, and he became very aware that she wasn’t there. But the thing spoke again, so he pushed that aside for the time being.

“You think I’m a child of Ultron,” it said, walking around the room, eyeing each and every one of them as it did so before landing on Steve.

“You’re not?”

“I am not Ultron.” It paused, frowning. “I am not Jarvis, I am…I _am_.”

“I looked in your head,” Wanda said, approaching the figure. She was frowning at it, but Steve still saw curiosity in her eyes. “And saw annihilation.”

“Look again.”

“Yeah,” Clint chuckled darkly. “Her seal of approval means jack to me.”

“Their powers, the horrors in our heads, Ultron himself…they all came from the mind stone, and they’re _nothing_ compared to what it can unleash,” Thor insisted. “But with it on our side-“

“Is it?” Steve interrupted, then his eyes fell on the figure again. “Are you? On our side?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” it replied.

“Well it better get real simple real soon,” Clint retorted.

“I am on the side of life,” the thing answered. “Ultron isn’t. He will end it all.”

“Then what’s he waiting for?” Tony asked.

“You.”

“Where?”

“Sokovia,” Clint answered. “He’s got Nat there too.”

Steve stiffened, his eyes flying over to meet Clint’s, his blood turning to ice in his veins. Suddenly it all made sense, Clint asking if he saw her earlier, the fact that she wasn’t here, that she hadn’t answered when he tried to contact her back in Seoul. Clint noticed and just gave him a silent reassuring nod. Steve desperately hoped that meant he knew she was okay.

“If we’re wrong about you,” Bruce said, approaching the figure, and Steve got the sudden urge to punch him for not seeming the least bit concerned that Ultron had kidnapped Natasha. “If you’re the monster that Ultron made you to be…”

“What will you do?” it asked. Bruce didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t want to kill Ultron,” it continued thoughtfully. “He is unique. And he is in pain. But that pain will roll over the earth, so he must be destroyed. Every form he’s built, every trace of his presence in the net. We have to act now. And not one of us can do it without the others.” It gave Steve a hard look, then dropped its gaze down to stare at its own hands. “Maybe I am a monster. I don’t think I’d know if i were one. I’m not what you are, and not what you intended. So there may be no way to make you trust me. But we need to go.”

It spun around and Steve blinked in confusion. It had picked up Mjolnir and held it out, offering it to Thor.

Well, that was conclusive.

Thor just stared at the hammer and then at the figure, speechless. He reached out and took it, shooting Steve a dumbfounded look as the figure walked away.

“Alright,” he muttered finally. He brushed past Tony, patting him on the shoulder. “Well done.”

“Three minutes,” Steve said, glancing around at them. His nap would have to wait. “Get what you need.”

The group hesitated but finally started moving, Tony and Bruce retreating back up to their lab, and Clint heading towards the stairs that would take him to the locker room. The twins hung behind, waiting for Steve, who quickly went after Clint.

“Barton, wait-“

“Okay, look-“ He spun around to face him, shooting the twins a dirty look before going back to Steve. “Nat won’t tell me what the fuck is going on with her. She tells me _everything_. And I don’t know what the hell happened that made you two start acting like this, but you need to get over it.”

“Clint-“ Steve started, but he held his hand up to stop him.

“Ultron wants us dead, Rogers. He’s an indestructible robot with an indestructible robot army who wants all of us _dead_, and he got his hands on her. I understand the gravity of this situation, I really do, but leaving her behind-“

“I didn’t know!” Steve cut in, loud enough for Clint to stop talking. He swallowed thickly, the guilt and worry bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. “Jesus Barton, you think I wouldn’t drop everything if I knew she was in danger?”

Clint just stared at him for a few long seconds, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I knew it.”

Steve just huffed irritably. “Knew _what?_”

“You’re in love with her.”

Steve froze, his eyes widening. He gaped at Clint, who seemed satisfied with his response.

“I…what?” he stammered, and Clint just rolled his eyes.

“You two are fucking idiots,” he muttered, then spun around and pulled his locker open, effectively ending the conversation. Steve glanced behind him, hoping his ears weren’t turning pink.

“You guys can, uh…help yourselves to whatever you need,” he said, before escaping to the hangar, leaving them and Clint behind.

The jet was waiting for them, but he stepped off of the ramp that led to it and sat down on the edge of it instead. He rested his elbows against his knees and buried his head in his hands, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

Clint was right. They were being stupid. He’d been so caught up in avoiding her and giving her space that he’d ignored his instincts. If he’d have listened to Clint, and not been hellbent on letting her handle herself and focusing on his own bitterness and resentment towards her and Bruce…maybe he and the Maximoffs may have had a chance to catch up to Ultron before he got away with Natasha.

At least she was alive. There was no way Ultron would kill her, not when he knew they would come after her. He was holding her hostage, using her as bait in order to bring them to him. Ultron had the advantage, and he knew it.

Steve didn’t care. If a fight was what he wanted, that’s what he would get. As long as they got Natasha back.

And besides, she could take care of herself. He _knew_ she could. She was probably biding her time, coming up with a plan, waiting for them to show up and help her finish him off. She’d clearly gotten a message to them somehow, revealed Ultron’s location so Clint knew how to find her.

“Cap, you alright?”

Steve lifted his head and glanced around to see Tony coming from the locker room, closely followed by Bruce.

“Yeah,” he replied quickly, turning towards him. Tony hopped down from the ramp, eyeing him curiously. “Been a long week.”

“Tell me about it. I’m still hungover from Saturday,” he muttered. “Look, about before-“

“It’s fine, Tony,” Steve cut in, waving him off. It wasn’t fine, but it wasn’t worth the argument. He was too exhausted, both mentally and physically. “At least this robot isn’t trying to kill us,” he mumbled under his breath.

“That was _one _time,” Tony shot back. Steve huffed out a what could almost be considered a laugh, very aware that Bruce was actively trying to avoid looking him. “There’s no way we all get through this,” he added lowly, glancing up at Bruce. “If only one tin soldier’s left standing, we’ve already lost. There’s gonna be blood on the floor.”

“I got no plans tomorrow night,” Steve replied bitterly.

“I get first crack at the big guy,” Tony continued, but Steve didn’t miss the concerned look he gave him. “Iron Man’s the one he’s waiting for.”

“That’s true, he hates you the most.” The figure from the cradle walked by and right into the jet without another word. Tony glared at him, and Steve huffed out a laugh, despite everything.

“He has a point,” Bruce agreed.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of you people,” Tony shot back, but Steve still saw the twitch of a smile on his lips before he hopped back up onto the ramp and headed into the jet. Bruce, seemingly desperate not to be left alone with Steve, hurried after him.

The rest of the team gathered in the jet shortly after, geared up and ready to go. Clint took his spot in the cockpit and the twins stayed off to the side, looking uncomfortable while putting in their earpieces and eyeing the rest of the group carefully. The newest member, Thor’s ‘vision’ - hung to the back, observing them all silently.

“What’s the plan, Cap?” Tony asked as the ramp closed, shutting them all into the dark jet. Everyone turned their gaze to him, all visibly exhausted but determined, and he blinked away his own tiredness. Time to focus.

“Ultron knows we’re coming. Odds are we’ll be riding into heavy fire. That’s what we signed up for, but the people of Sokovia…” he glanced over towards the Maximoffs. Pietro was staring at the floor, and Wanda was watching Steve with nervous eyes that glowed with a slightly red haze. “They didn’t. So our priority is getting them out. All they want is to live their lives in peace, and that’s not gonna happen today, but we can do our best to protect them, and we can get the job done.

“We find out what Ultron’s been building. We _find_ Romanoff.” Steve’s eyes fell on Clint, whose jaw tightened and he nodded. “And we clear the field. Keep the fight between _us_.”

He paused, averting his gaze to stare down at the floor, Ultron’s words ringing in his head. _Captain America…pretending you could live without a war_. He swallowed thickly against the uneasiness that bubbled up in the pit of his stomach.

“Ultron thinks we’re monsters,” he continued lowly. “That we’re what’s wrong with the world. This isn’t just about beating him…it’s about whether he’s right.”

Steve felt Tony’s eyes on him and when he lifted his own to meet them, he knew Tony felt the same way he did. If Ultron was right…if the Avengers were nothing but a group of reckless people projecting their own issues on the world, that chaos clung to like a magnet…?

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Ultron needed to be their first priority. There was rime for reevaluation later.

“Alright. Barton, get us in the air. Let’s go.”


	9. Chapter 9

**NOVIGRAD, SOKOVIA**

“_Again_.”

James screamed and Natasha twirled, her ballet slippers sliding across the floor easily.

“_Love is for children, Natalia.”_

His face contorted against the pain and she watched as his eyes emptied and every trace of her was erased.

“_Again_.”

She lifted her pistol, but instead of an unknown, terrified man, she was staring right at Steve. Steve who, despite her warnings, had come for her. Steve who was looking at her with trust and pure adoration, right up until she pulled the trigger.

Natasha gasped, her eyes flying open. She had to blink a few times to shake the haze of the dream from her mind, and it was then that she remembered where she was. Sokovia, in the basement of Ultron’s makeshift workshop.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, curled up against the hard, stone wall in the corner of her little cell. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them, desperately trying to calm herself down. The last thing she needed was for Ultron to see her this vulnerable.

Luckily the army of bots that had filled the giant space before were now gone, which meant Ultron had plenty of defenses in preparation for the Avengers inevitable arrival. There was no way of knowing how long she’d been asleep, which worried her, but she probably needed the rest. She _had_ been awake for almost two days, after all. Plus, whatever that Maximoff girl had done to her mind had lasting effects that she just couldn’t shake no matter how long she tried. If Clint and Steve were indeed coming for her, there was going to be a fight, and not an easy one.

“Natasha?”

Her head shot up at the sound of the echoed voice and she stood, crossing her cell to peer out of it.

“Bruce?”

“Are you alright?” he asked, breathing out a sigh of relief. He lifted his hand to let it fall on top of hers where she’d grabbed the bar and she stiffened a bit, thrown off by the intimacy of it. He didn’t notice.

“Yeah.”

“The team’s in the city. It’s about to light up.”

“I don’t suppose you found a key lying around somewhere?” she asked with a raise of her eyebrow, grateful for both the thought of Steve and Clint somewhere above her _and_ Bruce letting go of her hand as he stepped away.

“Yeah, I did.” He lifted up a giant machine gun that she recognized as one of Strucker’s creations and hopped back behind a beam. He shot the lock and it blew a hole in the bars, which allowed her to pull it open.

“So what’s our play?” she asked once she was free, but Bruce set down the gun.

“I’m here to get you to safety.”

She frowned at him. “The job’s not finished.”

“We can help with the evacuation, but I _can’t_ be in a fight near civilians. And you’ve done plenty.” Natasha expertly smoothed out her expression instead of rolling her eyes. She highly doubted Steve would have told Bruce not to let her fight, and Clint would have laughed at the thought. The two of them were obnoxiously protective over her, but they’d be stupid to hold her back, and they both knew it. “Our fight is over.”

“So we just…disappear?” she asked flatly, testing him.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” he asked hesitantly.

Natasha tilted her head a bit, considering. It seemed like a good idea yesterday, but it had also been contingent on stopping Ultron first. Running was her specialty, sure…but running from a fight?

Hell no.

“Bruce…” she began, but he shook his head.

“The team can handle it. They have a plan, and the Maximoffs are on our side.” That was interesting, but she set it aside for later. One thing at a time. “What good are _we_ against a bunch of robots?” he added with a soft, nervous chuckle.

It took everything in her not to smirk at him. Bruce himself? Yeah, she understood. It was a liability to have him around this big of a fight if his plan wasn’t to bring the Hulk into the equation.

But Natasha? It was almost incomprehensible that he thought her skillset would be so useless. She’d be damned if she let anyone - Ultron, Bruce, even the voice inside her head - tell her she couldn’t hold her own.

Besides, if they were evacuating the city, what was he worried about? He had a certain amount of control when he wanted it. Not that he ever had a burning desire to transform into the Hulk, but she knew there was always a little bit more Bruce in him when it was his choice. Even if he was anxious after what happened in Somalia, even if he was apprehensive to turn into the Hulk again, they needed him.

And then she knew, at that moment, she was the only one that could stop him from running away and leaving their team when they needed him the most.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said finally, and Bruce, believing her, turned around and led the way back towards where he came in.

A low rumble suddenly shook the ground. The building started crumbling, and she saw the panic in Bruce’s eyes as he inevitably remembered the last time they were in this situation.

“We gotta move,” he breathed, and Natasha swore she could see his veins start to change color.

“You’re not gonna turn green?” she asked in a methodic attempt to get one last confirmation out of him. He grabbed her arm, pulling her against the wall as chunks of stone began falling to the ground. The way he was looking at her made her heart thump guiltily in her chest.

“I’ve got a compelling reason not to lose my cool.”

The gears turned in her head and she steeled herself against the realization of what she had to do.

_God_, she was the worst.

She would have to deal with the consequences of that later. Instead her lips curved up into a smile, the one she’d perfected over the last several decades that she knew could get a man to turn to putty in her hands.

“I adore you,” she breathed.

Bruce just gaped at her with wide eyes so she went in for the kill, sliding her hand behind his neck and pulling him in to press her lips against his. She barely had time to think about how little she felt when she kissed him before she twisted him around shoved him away from her. Bruce stumbled backwards, a confused and terrified look on his face as he fell into the giant pit she’d managed to angle him in front of.

“But I need the other guy,” she muttered under her breath, the guilt flaring up in her as he fell out of sight.

She heard a low roar and backed up just in time for the Hulk to leap out of the pit and land in front of her with a snarl.

“Let’s finish the job.”

He snorted irritably - she had no doubt that was _all_ Bruce - and grabbed her, practically throwing her up on to his back. She had just enough time to wrap her arms tightly around his neck before he jumped.

Her stomach lurched and she buried face against his shoulder, suddenly regretting this very, _very_ much. He broke through the crumbling concrete of the building, fresh air hitting her face. He jumped again, faster and farther, and she closed her eyes, desperately trying not to look down.

Finally he landed on something solid and she lost her grip, branches and dirt smacking into her face as she flew away from the Hulk. When she finally tumbled to a stop she pushed herself up on her feet, bracing herself against the dizziness that suddenly threatened to overcome her.

“I really hope this makes us even,” she panted, swallowing hard as a wave of nausea hit her. Bruce just grunted and gestured behind him. “Now go be a hero.”

He roared and took off without her into the woods. She took only a split second to catch her breath then set off after him towards the city to find her team and finally end this fight.

“_You take away my world, I take away yours._”

Ultron’s voice rang out around Steve and he grabbed the closest bot, punched it in the face and continued printed across the bridge. The ground shook violently and he skidded to a halt when the road suddenly dropped right in front of him. The bridge collapsed, taking several cars with it. The street and buildings on the other side of it were falling away, and quickly.

_What the hell?_

The earth wasn’t sinking in on itself, he realized. The rest of it was just rising.

“_Friday?_” Tony asked softly, horror reflected in his voice.

“_Sokovia’s going for a ride_,” the AI answered.

“_Do you see? The beauty of it?”_ Ultron said, every single bot suddenly ceasing their assault, his voice echoing through them. Iron Man zoomed past Steve, no doubt trying to comprehend what was happening. “_The inevitability. You _rise_, only to fall. You, Avengers, you are my meteor, my swift and terrible sword, and the earth will crack with the weight of your failure._

_ “Purge me from your computers, turn my own flesh against me, it means nothing. When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal.”_

Steve heard the bot approaching but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the destruction below him. He swung his fist up and smacked it into the bot’s face. It fell behind him with a _clank_.

He didn’t have time to be horrified by what was happening, because the bots suddenly came alive again. They attacked once more and Steve spun around, grabbing his shield off of his back and launching it at a hoard of them.

“_The vibranium core’s got a magnetic field, that’s what’s keeping the rock together_,” Friday explained.

“_If it drops?_” Tony asked.

“_Right now the impact would kill thousands. Once it gets high enough? Global extinction_.”

_Extinct_. That’s what Ultron had said that first night, when they’d discovered him. Apparently ridding the earth of the Avengers wasn’t enough to bring world peace.

Another group flew at Steve. He braced himself as one of them hit his shield and his feet slid backwards on the pavement. He forced his shield forward and knocked it out of the way, hitting it hard on the head with the edge of it and then twirling around to knock out two more.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw another one rocketing towards him, but he barely had enough time to spin towards it before it smashed into his chest, knocking the breath out of him. He flew into the air and landed hard on the windshield of an abandoned car. It shattered beneath him and he pushed himself upright, gasping for breath.

“_Cap, you got incoming!”_

“Incoming already came in,” he groaned.

More glass shattered and he whipped his head around as the windows of an apartment building across the street shattered, followed by a chorus of screams when glass rained down on the people below it. He let out a huff and forced himself up.

“Stark, you worry about bringing the city back down safely. The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart.” Finally free, he hopped off the car and took stock of the chaos surrounding him. There were bots everywhere, mostly just terrorizing civilians that hadn’t yet gotten to safety. “You get hurt, hurt ‘em back. You get killed…walk it off.”

Steve turned and took off towards the fresh wave of bots that was landing all over the street. He knocked a few down until a loud _clang_ caught his attention. He spun around in search of the sound and saw the bridge collapsing, with cars still on the edge of it. He sprinted across the street towards them and grabbed onto the back of a sedan, but the bumper popped off of it and both cars tipped right over the edge.

Steve could only watch helplessly as they plummeted towards the ground, but breathed a sigh of relief as Thor flew past them on his way up to the city. He instantly changed his course and sped after the vehicles while Steve fought off more Ultron bots with a broken piece of the bridge he found on the ground. When he peered back over the edge he was just in time to catch Thor’s eye. He nodded once before grabbing the woman in the car and launching her back up towards the bridge. Steve hopped off of the edge, grabbing tight to a mangled piece of rebar on his way down. He reached out and caught the woman when she came into range.

“I’ve got you!” he called down to her, and she responded with a terrified scream while she watched the quickly disappearing city beneath them. “Just look at me!” She did and Steve nodded reassuringly before he pulled them up, using handholds in the destroyed concrete to lift her above him and back to safety.

“_You can’t save them all,_” Ultron droned through an approaching bot. Steve reached back and wrenched his shield off of his back, tossing it at the bot. It lodged in the thing’s chest, which knocked it back long enough for the woman to run past it and for Steve to finish climbing back up. He activated the magnets in his suit and his shield came flying back to him, bringing the bot with it. “_You’ll never-_“

“You’ll never what?” He yanked his arm and shield free and the bot tumbled over the edge, smashing into the concrete below before disappearing towards the city. _“_You didn’t finish!” he called after it irritably.

There was a loud _thud_ behind him and Thor dropped down with the second car that had fallen off the bridge. He took off back towards the city, Steve hopping over a pile of debris to catch up with him.

“What, were you napping?”

Thor shot him an amused grin, holding Mjolnir up and tightening his grip in preparation for the wave of bots about to ambush them.

With Thor by his side they were able to hold the things off easily despite their numbers. Steve took down a few on his own and leapt over a pile of debris to dodge the blasts coming from their palms. Then he swung to his feet and, after briefly catching Thor’s eye and receiving a nod in return, stomped down on the edge of his fallen shield to push it up into the air. Thor swung the hammer and it hit the edge of the shield with a sharp metallic _clang_ that sent it flying into the crowd of bots, effectively slicing a handful of them in half. Thor then launched into the air and spun around, smacking several of the bots with the hammer. One of them flew across the street into a semi and the thing exploded, destroying more of them.

“_Thor, you’re bothering me_,” Ultron said, and then he came out of nowhere, ramming into Thor and pushing him away from the area. Steve sprinted across the street and activated the magnets again, causing his shield to soar through the air, knocking out a few more bots before it snapped to his arm.

“_Alright, we’re all clear here,”_ came Clint’s voice in his ear. Steve raised his arm and smashed the edge of his shield into the throat of a bot, pushing it away from him and letting the shield get lodged between the metal pieces of its body.

“We are not clear!” he panted, as the bot stumbled backwards into a car. “We are very _not_ clear!”

He hopped up and twisted his body so he could extend his legs, pushing the edge of his shield straight through the bot. It crumbled and fell to the ground, and Steve pushed himself up so he could rip the shield free and turn on another one.

“_Alright, comin’ to you.”_

Steve tore through the rest of the bots in the area easily, grateful that at least _they_ weren’t made of vibranium. The Maximoffs joined him, Wanda tearing apart a group of bots with a blast of red energy. Once they’d been turned to dust and the area was clear, Steve sprinted over to them.

“You guys alright?”

Wanda looked a bit shaken, but nodded confidently. “Alright. We need to clear these people out. Get them off the streets.”

“Let’s go,” Pietro said to his sister, and they both headed into the street to start gathering the terrified civilians.

“We’re leading the civilians to the town hall,” he said into his comms, heading under a bridge between two buildings to analyze how safe it was. If they could at least get everyone in one place and under some sort of cover, they could focus more on stopping Ultron’s bots than keeping people safe. “Try to meet us there, and we can…“

He trailed off when his eyes caught a flash of bright blue through the dust clogging up the air. Natasha jogged into view, a little beaten up but overall seemingly very okay. He let out a breath of relief, and it took everything he had not to run to her and pull her into his arms just to ensure she was perfectly fine.

“Rogers,” she greeted evenly. Despite the hesitation in her eyes, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

“Romanoff.”

Natasha suddenly stopped in her tracks, frowning behind him. “Is that my jacket?”

Steve glanced around to Wanda, who had followed him. “She’s with us,” he explained, but Natasha still narrowed her eyes in confusion.

“That doesn’t explain the jacket,” she muttered under her breath, causing Wanda to shift uncomfortably.

Clint joined them then, approaching Natasha and looking her over, no doubt coming to the same conclusion Steve had that she was unharmed.

“Nice of you to show up,” he quipped, and she raised an amused eyebrow at him.

“I should say the same to you,” she shot back.

“Fighting these robots is getting us nowhere,” Steve sighed, pushing back against the exhaustion threatening to settle over him. He didn’t know how much more of this they could take.

“And the air’s getting thin,” Clint added. “If we go up much higher people are gonna start dropping.”

“There are people in the city still hiding,” Wanda spoke up. Steve nodded towards her.

“Root ‘em out. Barton?”

“I got her six,” Clint replied, and he followed Wanda back out into the street. Natasha watched them go curiously but turned back to Steve, approaching him with a determined look on her face.

“And us?”

He grinned, the warmth and familiarity of fighting side by side with her washing over him. “We fight robots.”

Natasha’s mouth curved up into his favorite little sideways smile and in one swift motion she reached behind her and swung her hands out, her batons extending and crackling with energy. Steve huffed out a laugh and was about to comment on her dramatics - he wasn’t the only one, and she damn well knew it - but before he could, Pietro appeared seemingly out of thin air, the mangled arm of a bot in his hands.

“Today?” he called, slowing down long enough to glance between the two of them expectantly. “We fight robots today? Or is next month better for you?”

He grinned, shoved the arm into Steve’s hands and then sped off again. Natasha shot Steve a confused and incredulous look and he shrugged, nodding his head in the direction Pietro had disappeared.

“I was gone for five minutes and you already started recruiting?” she muttered, following him as he sprinted back out into the street.

“I’ll fill you in later.”

A hoard of bots landed in front of them, and Steve held up his shield while Natasha charged her batons. She sprinted ahead of him, taking out two of them with perfectly aimed charges from her wrist, then twisted around and smacked three in a row with her batons. Then she spun and leapt over the pile she’d created, landing on top of another and plunging a baton into its chest. She rolled off of it as it fell, executing a perfect summersault and landing gracefully on her feet before charging at another group of them.

Steve could only watch, standing stupidly in awe of her, forgetting for a second that they were being _ambushed by robots_. The hum of an approaching bot snapped him out of it and he dragged his eyes away from Natasha to punch it in the face.

_Focus_.

He forced himself to concentrate and began thinning out the group on his side.

They were coming fast but dropping easily. Once they were all nothing but parts on the ground he turned to see Natasha struggling with a group of them. They were ganging up on her, coming at her both on the ground and from the air.

“Romanoff!” he called, tossing the shield at one of the bots.

She flitted her eyes over to him briefly and yelled back, “Thanks!” before flinging one of her batons right into the chest of a bot and activating the magnets in her suit so the shield snapped to her arm. Steve punched his way to her, taking out a couple of them while she shielded herself from a blast. The bot landed in front of her and they traded a few blows before Natasha flung the shield back at him. He leapt up into the air, snapping it to his arm, and it came down crashing hard onto the bot’s head.

Once they were clear again Natasha stood up straight, then shot him a grin. The wind whipped her hair back from her face and her eyes sparkled with determination and confidence and pure adrenaline, the way they always did in the middle of a fight. And they were distracting, especially after just witnessing how well she handled his shield.

And how damn good she looked with it on her arm.

_Focus, dammit!_

“We should probably…finish getting these people to safety,” she said finally, noticing his hesitation with an amused but hesitant smile. Steve nodded, quickly turning away from her and heading back towards the group Wanda and Clint were keeping safe.

“The next wave’s gonna hit any minute,” he said, guiding a few people to cover, keeping an eye out on the sky. “What d’you got, Stark?”

“_Well, nothing great,_” Tony answered softly. “_Maybe a way to blow up the city. That’ll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear_.”

“I asked for a solution, not en escape plan,” Steve replied harshly, but he couldn’t help the sinking feeling of defeat beginning to bubble up inside of him. This was going to be endless, and they didn’t have time to fight Ultron’s pawns. The second he decided it was time for them to drop - which could be at any time - they and thousands of people were done for.

“_Impact radius is getting bigger every second_,” Tony argued weakly. “_We’re gonna have to make a choice_.”

Steve hopped up on a pile of debris next to where Natasha was keeping watch for stragglers, panting to catch his breath over the thinning air and the dust filling it.

“Cap, these people are going nowhere,” she said next to him. “If Stark finds a way to blow this rock-“

“Not until everyone’s safe.”

Natasha sighed. “Everyone up here, versus _everyone_ down there?” He could feel her eyes on him, but he set his jaw and continued to scan their surroundings instead, desperately searching for some kind of plan. “There’s no math there-”

“I’m not leaving this rock with _one_ civilian on it.”

“I didn’t say we should leave.”

Finally he turned to her. She gazed up at him, a crease between her brows, and she nodded her head slightly, answering his unasked question.

They were going to die. It practically hit him in the face, breaking through his naive determination that there was still a way out of this. There _wasn’t_, and if they waited too long to find one, they risked destroying the entire planet. The decision was an ethical nightmare, one he definitely wasn’t capable of making.

“There’s worse ways to go,” she said in response to his silence, averting her eyes to gaze out at the clouds instead. She tilted her head towards it. “Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”

He couldn’t look. He could only watch her, amazed by the sad but determination in her eyes. They shone impossibly bright in the filtered sunlight, almost teal the way they reflected the clear sky. And then she smiled softly, a serene acceptance washing over her features.  
At least they were together. The thought brought him a little bit of peace when it came, and he let out a long breath. The first time he’d (almost) died he was alone, freezing and terrified. The second time, falling from that helicarrier with so much regret, he’d also been alone, watching Bucky’s horrified stare get smaller and smaller. But now he had _her_ at his side, strong enough for both of them just like she always had been. Like nothing had ever changed.

He had to tell her. The idea came to him much too quickly to handle and his heart started thudding in his chest. It couldn’t be that hard, right? They were about to die…who cared if they’d been so distant the last few months? It didn’t change anything, not everything they’d been together or what he felt for her.

He’d made a promise to her all those months ago to be honest, and hadn’t dared break it since. As long as he died knowing she knew how much she meant to him, how absolutely incredible she was and how grateful he was for the way she’d held him together the last few years, he could go without regret.

Steve panicked, scrambling to come up with the words in his head and formulate the sentence before he said it out loud so he didn’t sound like an idiot. _I love you_ just didn’t seem like enough, but they didn’t have much time for anything else. He could hop down next to her, grab her and kiss her breathless, apologize for everything and tell her how in love with her he was…but that had a high probability of backfiring.

_Just say it_.

Simple was better. This _was_ the end of the world, after all.

_ Fuck_.

Steve opened his mouth, not at all prepared for what was about to come out of it; but suddenly her eyes widened and he hesitated, following her gaze.

“_Glad you like the view, Romanoff_. _It’s about to get better_.” Nick Fury’s voice crackled to life in his ear as SHIELD’s giant helicarrier rose into view. “_Nice, right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She’s dusty, but…she’ll do.”_

“Fury, you sonofabitch,” Steve muttered under his breath, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

“_Oho, you kiss your mother with that mouth?_” Nick shot back. Natasha snorted out a laugh next to him and Steve grinned over at her, silently thanking Nick’s timing for preventing him from saying something he’d surely already be regretting.

Pietro appeared in front of them, watching in awe as the helicarrier opened up on the side and several smaller lifeboats emerged from it.

“_This_ is SHIELD?”

“This is what SHIELD’s _supposed_ to be,” Steve replied.

“This is not so bad,” Pietro said with a smile. Steve nodded and caught Natasha’s gaze briefly, before spinning around to hop back down to the ground and head towards Wanda and Clint.

“Let’s load ‘em up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hashtag steve is an idiot
> 
> hope you enjoyed ;)


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as the lifeboats started landing on the flying city, Steve hopped down from the rubble they’d been standing on and ran ahead to start loading civilians. Natasha followed, gesturing to the group hidden inside of the building behind her. They piled into the street, crowding the bridge to get a spot on the boat that would take them to safety. 

Rhodey, who had showed up with Nick, got to work taking out the bots heading for the helicarrier, joined shortly after by Tony. That seemed to be distracting them long enough to load a couple of the boats with people and send them off towards the helicarrier.

“_Thor! I got a plan!_” Tony called suddenly_._

_ “We’re out of time! They’re coming for the core_!”

“_Rhodey, get the rest of the people onboard that carrier. Avengers, time to work for a living!_”

Tony jetted off towards the center of the city, and with Rhodes taking point on evacuation, Steve took off after him, closely followed by Clint and Wanda. Pietro disappeared with a blur and Natasha finished loading the last lifeboat before finding an abandoned construction truck not far from the city’s edge.

“_Romanoff, you and Banner better not be playing hide the zucchini_,” Tony quipped.

Natasha could have punched him. In fact, maybe if she had when he started making comments like that a couple months ago, he wouldn’t still be making them. She just rolled her eyes and stepped down hard on the gas, ramming into a crowd of bots coming at her. They shattered and fell away, leaving a trail of parts behind her.

“Relax, Shellhead. Not all of us can fly,” she replied flatly. She came to a stop just outside of the church and dropped down from the truck, jogging over to where Tony was shooting some of the bots she’d missed with blasts from his palms. “What’s the drill?”

“_This is the drill_.” He pointed behind them at the device coming out of the center of the church - a _literal_ drill - and Natasha shot him a dirty look. “_Ultron gets his hand on the core, we lose.”_

The Hulk smashed down just outside of the building, ripping a bot apart and snarling at them. Just behind him Natasha saw Ultron - the big one - floating down from the sky.

“Is that the best you can do!?” Thor roared, tightening his hand around Mjolnir.

Ultron lifted his hand, and an army of his bots came charging at them from behind debris and buildings, seemingly out of nowhere. Natasha let out a long, tired sigh - these things were _never ending_ \- and dropped one of her hands behind her back to pull out a charged baton.

“You _had_ to ask,” Steve muttered with an exasperated glance over at Thor, sounding just as exhausted as Natasha felt.

“This_ is the best _I_ can do,”_ Ultron answered. The bots stood behind him, a sea of glowing blue eyes and metal. Waiting. “_This is exactly what I wanted. All of _you_, against all of me. How can you possibly hope to stop me?”_

“_Well, like the old man said,_” Tony replied lowly, catching Steve’s eyes briefly. “_Together_.”

Bruce let out an ear-shattering roar and the army charged, climbing over abandoned vehicles and debris. They swarmed from all sides, nothing but the sound of clanking metal echoing through the structure.

The church erupted into chaos, filling the air with the electric charge of Thor’s hammer, the metallic hum of Steve’s shield, whirring repulsor charges, and the odd prickling sensation that came along with red wisps of energy from the Maximoff girl. Natasha whipped out the pistol on her thigh, her heart thumping with the familiar rush of adrenaline, and backed up a few feet, aiming at the wave of bots coming at her. That held a few of them off, their heads shattering with her perfectly aimed shots, but more followed quicker than she could hold them back.

When her magazine clicked empty she dropped it and yanked out her other baton. It crackled to life and she leapt at a group of them, taking one out with a stab in the chest and another with a swipe across its head.

One of them grabbed her, and she used the momentum to swing herself up onto its shoulders and knock it to the ground, finishing it off with an electric blast from her wrist. Then she rolled under one flying straight at her and jabbed it in the back, pushing it into two others with her baton still in its chest. It shocked all three of them and they dropped, just in time for a fourth to grab her arm tightly.

She held it off but it was clawing at her, so she used her free hand to swipe her other pistol up and shoot it point blank. Another following it dropped with an arrow to its head - courtesy of Clint - which split off into several projectiles that sought out more targets.

Through the chaos Natasha saw Steve, who had ended up by her side. He spun to punch a bot in the face and then grabbed another one, ripping it apart like it was no more than a piece of paper. Natasha shot at one next to him with her widow’s bites and it dropped, getting his attention. His eyes flitted towards her when it fell, and she was about to aim her wrist at another that was preparing to shoot at her when Steve suddenly leapt over a pile of bodies and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her behind his shield just in time for several blasts to ricochet off of it.

“I had that handled!” she snapped, shooting a few more bots before they had the chance to grab at her. He smacked one in the face with his shield and spun around to punch another, still finding time to grin at her.

“I handled it faster.”

Just to make her point she spun around and took out four bots coming at him with expertly timed shots from her pistol, and they all dropped simultaneously. She heard another one behind her and, without even looking, she swiped her baton up and rammed it right into the center of its head before ripping it out again and letting it drop to the ground. He just raised an amused eyebrow at her then flung his shield through the air to bounce against the wall, take out a handful of bots, and snap back onto his arm, his eyes not leaving hers once.

“For fuck’s sake we’re fighting an army of robots! You can flirt with each other later!” Clint shouted, shooting off one arrow after another from a ledge right behind them. Natasha snorted out a laugh, and could swear she saw Steve’s ears turn bright pink before he spun around and busied himself with taking down the last few still in the church.

“They’re trying to leave the city!” Thor said, landing on the ground next to them. Natasha spun around after taking down one last metal body with a kick to its knees and a shot in the head with her gun, and saw a group of bots flying away from the church.

“_We can’t let them, not even one. Rhodey?”_

_ “I’m on it!”_

“We’ve gotta move out, even I can tell the air’s gettin’ thin,” Steve said, turning towards whoever remained after ensuring they were in the clear. “You guys get to the boats, I’ll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you.”

“What about the core?” Clint asked.

“I’ll protect it.” They all turned to look up at the Maximoff girl, who was up on the step right in front of the drill. She caught Clint’s gaze with a determined red glow sparkling in her eyes. “It’s my job.”

Clint eyed her carefully for a second, considering, then nodded before turning towards Natasha.

“Nat, Let’s go.”

Natasha glanced back at the girl curiously, then at Steve’s retreating form before following Clint. He let the way to a convertible with the keys still in the ignition just outside of the church and Natasha hopped over the door into the passengers seat.

“Showoff,” he muttered, pulling the driver’s side door open and sliding in behind the wheel.

“You just need to work out more. Stop eating so much pizza.” He started the car and took off, rolling his eyes in response. “You trust them?” she added, taking one last look back at the twins in the church before it disappeared from view.

“Steve does. They’re good kids.” He swerved through the streets, avoiding the mess of abandoned cars and debris.

“Steve trusts _everyone_,” she countered, and Clint shrugged in agreement. “And who the hell is that other guy?”

“Stark and Banner made another robot.”

“They _what_?” Honestly, that didn’t surprise her. “I’m gone for _one_ day…”

“This one isn’t fighting for world domination yet, so I think we might be okay.” Clint swerved, turning the corner down the street that would lead them to the bridge, and slammed on the gas again. “So, I was thinking-“

“That never ends well.”

He ignored her. “I know what I need to do. The dining room!” Natasha glanced over at him, raising an amused eyebrow. “If I knock out that east wall, it’d make a nice workspace for Laura, huh? Put up some baffling, she can’t hear the kids running around…what d’you think?”

“You guys always eat in the kitchen anyway.”

“No one eats in a _dining_ room!”

Clint slammed on the brakes and they came to a stop just in front of a lifeboat filling up with the remaining civilians. A muffled roar rang out across the street; they couldn’t see Bruce, but he had to be close.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Clint warned, glancing over at her.

“So get your ass on a boat,” she shot back, pointedly pushing open the car door and hopping out of it. Clint just rolled his eyes.

Natasha jogged across the street and under an almost completely destroyed building, finding the Hulk in a small playground on the other side, ripping apart a pile of already destroyed robots. She slowed when he saw her, sliding off one of her gloves and pulling her earpiece out of her ear so she could focus.

“Hey big guy,” she called. Bruce snarled and smashed a bot against the ground, ignoring her. “Sun’s gettin’ real low…”

She lifted her hand up and Bruce turned to her, eyeing her carefully like he always did. He approached her easily - easier than the last time, she noted - and met her gaze, finally starting to calm down. He followed her movements, his face screwed up in deep concentration as he raised his own hand.

And then everything exploded. Gunfire rained down on them and Bruce roared, deafening from such a close proximity. He shoved her out of the way and she stumbled backwards, smacking her head hard against a piece of metal playground equipment on her way down. The last thing she heard before blacking out was another earth shattering roar.

_“Thor, I’m gonna need you back in the church!_”

Thor landed on the ground in front of Steve with a _thud_. “Is this the last of them?”

“Yeah,” Steve panted. He took a quick glance up and down the street, using his vantage point from on top of a large piece of a fallen building to seek out anyone who didn’t make it onto the lifeboat. “Everyone else is on the carrier.”

“_You know, if this works…we maybe don’t walk away,_” Tony warned in his ear.

“Maybe not,” Thor replied lowly. Tony was right, but at least now they wouldn’t be taking hundreds of innocent people with them.

“Are we just waiting on Barton?” Steve asked. He’d seen Clint run out of the boat and across the street a moment ago, going after a kid who hadn’t made it onto the lifeboat.

Before Thor could answer, however, Steve heard the hum of a repulsor engine and whipped his head around to see their own jet streaking towards them through the air. It opened fire and they both ducked, Thor falling away and Steve crawling behind a statue for cover.

Once it passed he flung his hand up to his earpiece and spun around, unable to see Clint and the kid through the dust and smoke, but knowing they were directly in the line of fire.

“Barton, take cover!”

Steve leapt off of the platform and sprinted towards them. If he could get in front of them, his shield could provide enough cover to protect them. He could at _least_ shove them out of the way. Clint twisted around, holding the kid tight to his chest and shielding him from the incoming fire.

Before Steve could reach them, however, something flew past him and Clint was gone. Steve slowed, confused, but then noticed Pietro appear out of nowhere next to an upturned car down the street. Steve’s breath caught in his lungs when he saw splotches of blood spreading quickly across the fabric of his shirt. He snapped his shield onto his back and took off again, reaching Pietro just as he fell stiffly to the ground.

Clint and the kid were behind the car, and Steve quickly realized Pietro had grabbed them and pulled them to safety. Clint laid the kid down and fell to his knees next to Pietro, glancing up at Steve with a horrified, guilt-ridden look on his face.

“I…I didn’t…” he stuttered, trailing off and letting his gaze fall back to Pietro.

“I know,” Steve replied numbly. He swallowed hard, nodding towards the kid. “Take him, get to the boat.” Clint didn’t move. He just stared at Pietro, eyes clouded over. “_Now_, Barton…before he turns around.”

Finally Clint nodded and he dragged his eyes away from Pietro. He pulled the kid back into his arms and quickly jogged across the street, leaving Steve to pull Pietro’s body from the ground. He tried not to look at him, the side of his blood staining the ground and glazed, lifeless eyes sending an endless wave of guilt cascading over him.

Steve brought Pietro back to the lifeboat and laid him gently on the floor. Clint returned the child to his family, and Steve hopped back onto the bridge, swallowing hard against the lump in the back of his throat. This was their last chance to get everyone off of the city, he couldn’t let himself be distracted yet.

He was scanning the street one last time, looking for any more stragglers, when he felt an uncomfortable shift under his feet. The ground dropped right out from underneath him and he spun around, leaping onto a chunk of debris and using it to fling himself back towards the lifeboat, pulling himself up onto it just in time for the city to fall out of reach.

“_Thor, on my mark!”_ The city dropped and it dropped _fast_, gaining speed as it plummeted towards the earth. “_Now!”_

Steve peered over the edge and watched the city fall, looking impossibly small from this high up. It glowed, little pinpricks of bright white scattered around the city, and a split second later, with a blast of lightening from above, it exploded.

“Rogers!” Clint, who had been lying on a bench, had suddenly bolted upright and was staring at Steve, a horrified look on his face. “Nat went after Banner!”

Steve’s blood turned to ice in his veins and he scrambled to his feet, lifting his finger to his earpiece. “Romanoff, where are you?” There was no reply, and he glanced over at Clint helplessly. “_Natasha!_”

The longer the silence went on, the more difficult it became to breathe. Guilt began bubbling up in the pit of his stomach and his heart raced wildly. He scanned the lifeboat, desperately looking for a flash of red hair, just in case she was already on it and he hadn’t noticed. He’d been so worried about everyone else that he’d just assumed she’d made it to safety with Clint. It hadn’t even occurred to him that they’d separated after leaving the church.

“_She’s on the helicarrier,”_ Nick answered finally, after what seemed like the longest few seconds of Steve’s life. He let out a sigh of relief, and Clint fell back to lie on his bench again, closing his eyes. “_Banner went after the quinjet.”_

“Thank god,” Steve breathed, and he collapsed onto the seat across the aisle from Clint, blinking furiously against the wetness that had sprung up in his eyes. His heart still raced, but the panic he’d felt looming over him began to subside. “We made it onto the last lifeboat. Is everyone else accounted for?”

“_Think so!”_ Tony panted. “_Rhodes?”_

“_Already on the carrier,” _Rhodey answered.

“_Miss Maximoff is safe as well_,” Jarvis - no, _the Vision - _added.

“_Thor went for a dip,” _Tony continued._ “I’ll grab him and we’ll meet you guys there!_”

Steve leaned back against the seat, having no desire to know what Tony meant by that. He closed his eyes and the exhaustion settled in, hitting him hard.

Now that he had the chance to think about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. _Really_ slept, not just a few restless hours while the threat of Ultron hung over them. Maybe the night before the party, which he realized had only been a couple days ago. For all he knew it could have been weeks.

“I need a fucking drink,” Clint muttered under his breath.

Steve forced his eyes open and glanced blearily over at him, but they fell on Pietro instead. The kid was _eighteen_, had known war all his life and fought, first and foremost, to protect his sister.

He let himself wonder what would have happened to them if this mess with Ultron never started. They’d still be with Strucker, still being manipulated by him into thinking they were on the right side of things, but they were decent kids with good hearts. They would have found their way eventually. Maybe that was the soft spot in him that wanted to believe the best in people, but he liked to think they would have ended up okay.

This? This wasn’t okay. The kid had his entire life ahead of him. Now that they were free from Strucker’s grip, the two of them could have lived their lives in peace, something for which they’d been fighting for almost a decade.

The worst part about it was that Steve had _almost _made it. Jumping into the line of fire was a death sentence, but at least Steve had a better chance of surviving it than the rest of them did. Even if he hadn’t, this was his _job_. He signed up for this. He knew what being an Avenger meant, and he’d already accepted that not all of them would make it out of this fight alive. Better him than any of the rest of them. As long as his team and the people of Sokovia were safe, it wouldn’t have mattered.

Pietro and Wanda, however? They didn’t ask for this. He hadn’t known them long, but Wanda clung to her brother like a lifeline, and this was surely going to destroy her. They’d made it clear that they were the only thing each other had, and now she was alone, her home destroyed by something the Avengers had started.

Pietro…he was just _one_ casualty. Steve hadn’t had the time to think about it, but despite their evacuation efforts, he _knew_ not everyone had gotten out before this mess started. Hell, they couldn’t even be sure they’d gotten everyone onto the lifeboats. If anyone was hiding alone in some corner of the city, they’d have been too preoccupied with Ultron to notice. That didn’t include everyone still down on the ground, who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when the city started to rise out of the ground.

Ultron may not have been successful in his quest to wipe out everything on the globe, but this was still nothing short of a disaster.

When Natasha opened her eyes, it didn’t take long for her to realize she was flying through the air. She had just enough time to notice Bruce’s giant arms holding her tight against him before they made a hard landing, which jolted her roughly and made everything spin. He sat her down gently and then took off again, taking a running start before leaping up towards a quinjet flying through the air in the opposite direction.

Natasha frowned, glancing around her and taking in her surroundings. She was on the helicarrier, alone on the barren landing pad. She remembered being shot at, so Bruce must have gotten her to safety after she lost consciousness. When she pushed herself to her feet her head swam and she stumbled a bit, reaching up to gingerly touch her fingers to her head. It screamed in pain, and judging by the dizziness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm her the longer she stood, she guessed she had a concussion.

Finally, once she’d steadied herself and the spinning mostly subsided, she carefully made her way across the deck to the door that would take her down to the control center. When she yanked it open and pulled herself through it, the sudden increase of oxygen flooding her lungs brought on a fresh wave of dizziness. She braced herself, holding tight to the doorframe and taking several deep breaths before she felt like she could move again without toppling over.

The control room was much emptier than she always remembered it to be. It used to buzz with activity, agents flying back and forth, talking into their comm links and tapping rapidly on their keyboards. Now there were only twenty or so agents, the corners dark and uninhabited.

One thing that hadn’t changed, however, was Nick Fury, standing in the center on his pedestal. He caught her eye when she wandered into the room, abandoning his post in favor of helping her down into a chair in front of one of the monitors.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, waving him off. “I’m fine. Just…just a headache.”

He knew her better than that. “Medical is standing by upstairs tending to civilians if you need-“

Nick was cut off by a deafening _boom_ that rattled Natasha’s eardrums and sent a sharp jolt of pain through her head. She cursed under her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, too exhausted to care about anyone seeing her in pain.

“What the hell was that?” Nick asked harshly, shooting a confused glance towards the giant wall of windows.

“The city just exploded,” Maria replied in a soft voice.

Natasha forced her eyes open and followed their gaze. She didn’t have the best vantage, but she could see smoke billowing up in front of them. Maria turned from her spot a few rows ahead of them and her eyes fell on Natasha, a concerned crease between her brows.

“Sir, Rogers is looking for Romanoff. He thinks she was in the city when it exploded.”

He’d made it off, then. That brought her some comfort despite the uneasy haziness swirling around in her head. She worried briefly about Clint, but if he’d gotten himself on a lifeboat like she’d told him to, he was probably fine too.

“She’s on the helicarrier,” Nick answered, bringing his finger up to his earpiece. “Banner went after the quinjet.”

Nick left her then, returning to his post. She’d seen Bruce land on the jet, and assumed he was going after the bot that had shot at them before she was knocked out, so she turned to the monitor in front of her, tapping the keyboard to bring it to life. It took a little bit of working around the helicarrier’s slightly outdated software, but she was able to connect to the quinjet’s communication line. She didn’t have video, but the audio feed streaming through the monitor told her Bruce was indeed in the jet.

“Hey big guy,” she said softly, hoping she could at least talk him down enough to transform back into Bruce. She only heard him grunt in response. “We did it. The job’s finished. Now I need you to turn this bird around, okay?” There was no response. She pulled up the tracker imbedded in the jet’s operating system, but they must have put it into stealth mode before landing in the city earlier, so she couldn’t find its location. “We can’t track you in stealth mode, so help me out. I need you to-“

The feed cut out abruptly and Natasha trailed off, staring at screen. It wasn’t indicating a lost signal, so Bruce must have disconnected it himself. She tried to pull up the feed again but it kept getting denied, and then her attempts stopped working altogether.

The Hulk didn’t talk much, but she knew there was enough of Bruce in him that he always seemed to know what was going on around him. This wasn’t a technical issue. It was all him, eliminating all means to contact the jet.

He was leaving, just like they’d planned, but he had no intention of taking her with him.

Her heart sank and she let her hands fall off of the keyboard into her lap. It made her uncomfortable how much it stung to have him blow her off like that. Sure, maybe her motives weren’t exactly great - something she could only admit to herself due to how purely exhausted she was - but she hadn’t expected…this.

Natasha stood from her chair a little too quickly, pushing that to the back of her mind for the time being. She was too tired and had too terrible of a headache to deal with this yet. She retreated back out of the control room, ignoring Nick and Maria’s concerned glances, and made her way up to where the lifeboats would still be unloading.

The docks were an absolute mess, and it made her head throb, but it was enough chaotic energy to distract her from anything but finding Clint. There were people _everywhere_, and she tried not to feel guilty about the ones who were injured and being taken away by the meager medical staff. Finally she caught a glimpse of Steve, the bright blue of his uniform sticking out against the otherwise neutral blur of the crowd.

Once she got closer she was relieved to see Clint next to him, both of them very much alive and well. They were off to the side, a little ways away from the crowd. She found it odd that they weren’t assisting with redirecting civilians until she realized they were keeping an eye on the Maximoff girl, who was kneeling on the floor over her brother, a cloud of red hazy energy filling the air around her.

Oh. _Shit_.

Natasha pushed her way through the crowd, and as soon as Clint noticed her come up behind them he turned to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thank god you’re okay,” he mumbled into her hair, then pulled back, holding her steady with a hand on each shoulder while he looked her over. “You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding?”

“Hit my head,” she supplied with a weak shrug. Clint frowned at her, surely noticing the glazed look in her eyes while she stared back at him.

“How hard?” Natasha pulled herself away from him, catching Steve’s concerned look before dropping her gaze to the floor. “_Tasha_.”

“It’s just a _mild_ concussion,” she insisted. Clint let out an irritated sigh.

“Christ, Nat. Go get checked out by one of the doctors.”

“There are people hurt worse than me. I’ll go later.” Clint gave up, but she could tell he wasn’t happy. She glanced back up at him, her eyes briefly falling on Wanda and Pietro on the way. “What happened?” she asked lowly, and Clint’s face fell.

“There was a kid…he was stuck. Didn’t make it onto the boat.” He averted his gaze to stare at Pietro’s lifeless body on the floor. “Dumb kid saved my life,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Everyone else make it out?” she asked, her voice cracking involuntarily as she tried to rid her mind of the image of Clint lying on the floor like that instead, blood everywhere and bullet holes covering his body.

“Yeah,” Steve answered with a long sigh. “Rhodes is here somewhere, Tony and Thor took care of the city. The Vision went after the last couple bots after getting Wanda here.” He hesitated, and she silently begged him not to ask the question she didn’t want to answer. “Banner back yet?”

“No,” she said flatly. She could feel his eyes on her and sighed, shaking her head slightly. “He’s not coming back.”

Clint and Steve were silent for a few long seconds as they digested her words. Then Steve shifted, adjusting himself just close enough to her to wrap his hand lightly around her wrist. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she didn’t have the energy to pretend she didn’t want his comfort. So she shifted her hand up to slide her fingers between his and leaned her shoulder against his arm, swallowing back the lump in her throat and blinking away the tears that suddenly sprang up in her eyes.

They’d won. On paper, the day was saved with as many casualties avoided as possible. They’d stopped Ultron from destroying the planet and harming anyone else, and somehow, unbelievably, almost all of them had made it out alive. But as she watched Wanda - just a _kid_, one who was dragged into this against her will - with her hands on either side of her brother’s unresponsive face, her eyes glowing bright red and a steady stream of tears sliding down her cheeks, she couldn’t help feeling like they’d lost.


	11. Chapter 11

**MANHATTAN, NY | APRIL 2015**

The best part of any Stark Industries party was, without a doubt, the open bar.

The second best part was the fact that no one gave a shit about Natasha and she wasn’t bombarded with attempts at small talk like the boys were. Which meant at this particular function - which was thrown together so last minute there weren’t as many attendees as usual anyway - the vast majority of people were too busy gawking over Captain America and Iron Man and Thor to notice Natasha consuming an entire bottle of vodka on the upper level of the penthouse.

She was using a _glass_, at least, even though she’d be perfectly fine drinking straight out of the bottle. Luckily Tony always kept a few bottles of her favorite vodka imported straight from Russia hidden under the bar, which was necessary to get through any Stark party.

If this could even be considered a _party_. He called it a benefit. He and Pepper funded the entire thing themselves and every cent of the proceeds (as well as a large chunk of their own, according to Pepper) were going straight to Novigrad. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, clearly forgetting why they were here. There wouldn’t _be_ an event if they hadn’t destroyed half of a city eight days ago.

The Avengers had done plenty of press since arriving home last week. They’d had a few meetings with Stark Industries’ team of lawyers, who’d versed them all on what to say to the media. Officially, Ultron had been reduced to a piece of stolen tech that had gotten out of hand due to the actions of a rogue Hydra cell. It wasn’t _technically_ inaccurate, but they’d been explicitly warned not to make any comments that might suggest the Avengers Organization or Stark Industries were at all responsible.

Wanda had been kept out of it completely to protect her. They were working on getting her a visa, but it was going to take some time. They’d taken her back to Sokovia a couple days after the incident to bury her brother in a little graveyard just outside of the city, but she’d decided to come back to the US afterward. Natasha couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to constantly be reminded of it every day either.

After sleeping for about 15 hours straight when they’d gotten back to the US, Tony had woken up and immediately began planning the benefit event. He created the Avengers Relief Fund which, on top of going towards rebuilding Novigrad, would also provide assistance for displaced families and orphaned children. From where she was sitting on a bench overlooking the penthouse, Natasha could see him laughing loudly with a group of high-profile guests. He’d already drank way too much, and Pepper had been hovering around him all night in an attempt to keep him from overdoing it. The drunker he got the more believable the fake smiles became, so she supposed it would probably work in his favor.

“You gonna hide all night?” Natasha tore her eyes away from Tony and avoided Clint’s concerned gaze, concentrating instead on refilling her glass and setting the bottle back down on the floor at her feet. She hadn’t heard him approach her, but then again, she didn’t really care enough to pay attention. “None of us want to be here, it’s only fair you suffer too.”

Natasha rolled her eyes moved over a bit, giving him room to take a seat next to her. She offered him her glass, and he took a sip, shuddered, and handed it back.

“Wimp,” she muttered, finishing it off in two gulps and reaching down to refill it again.

They sat in silence for several moments, and Natasha’s eyes ended up landing on Steve. He was sitting at the bar, looking incredibly uninterested in something that was being said to him, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand. She’d seen Thor give him a flask earlier, and caught him pouring the contents of it into his glass a few times when he thought no one was watching.

“When are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you?” Clint asked finally. Natasha tore her eyes away from Steve and stared down at the drink sitting in her lap.

“I’m _fine_, Clint.”

“Bullshit.” Natasha just sighed. “Is this about Br-”

“No,” she snapped, cutting him off.

“Natasha.“

She hated when he did this. He just sat silently, letting her process, waiting for her to look at him. It worked every single time, and after several long seconds, she finally glanced over to meet his gaze.

“Bruce was…a distraction.”

“From what?”

“Myself. I don’t know. Everything.”

“From Rogers.”

She didn’t respond to that, opting instead to drain the rest of her glass and busy herself with refilling it.

“Bruce made sense. You know?” Clint didn’t answer, and waited for her to continue. “With all the shit I’ve done…he’s just as fucked up as I am.”

“You are _not_ fucked up.” Natasha let out a humorless laugh.

“I’m more fucked up than you,” she shot back darkly, taking a sip of her drink to stall. He knew exactly what she was doing and waited for her to run out of excuses not to continue. “I don’t deserve him,” she added softly, cursing internally for both the way her voice cracked, and the Red Room for the goddamn serum that made it so hard for her to get drunk.

“Bullshit,” he repeated, clearly understanding who she was really talking about. Natasha just shook her head, blinking back the tears that had suddenly sprung up in her eyes. “You know how he feels about you.”

“Of _course_ I do,” she shot back. Steve was many things, but subtle was absolutely not one of them.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I used him, Clint.” She let out a frustrated sigh and took a long gulp of her drink that did nothing to dull the sharp ache in her chest. “I used him just so I wouldn’t feel like shit for a while, and then I left. Who the fuck does that?” Clint didn’t respond. Smart of him. “He’s so _good_. And I’m-“

“Do _not_ finish that sentence.” Natasha rolled her eyes and knocked back the rest of her drink, opting to skip the glass and take the next sip straight out of the bottle. “Whatever you did doesn’t fucking matter anymore. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that, but I won’t stop until you believe me.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she mumbled against the rim of the bottle, before taking several more long gulps. It burned all the way down her throat, but by this point, she barely felt it.

Clint didn’t push her to talk, but he stayed with her, sipping at his beer while she finished off the bottle of vodka. By the time she was draining the last dew drops, she could finally feel it buzzing around in her brain, softening everything on the edges.

“I’m so _tired_, Clint,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper in an attempt to keep it from shaking. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, finally letting a few tears slide down her cheeks. “I’m so tired of running away from everything.”

“Then don’t,” he replied softly, gently rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It could be.” She huffed in response, but didn’t argue. Clint twisted his head a little to kiss her lightly on the top of her head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Are you getting soft on me, Barton?”

“Shut up,” he replied, and she finally let herself smile. But only a little. “You know, if you go through the lab and take the back elevator, I’m sure no one will notice.”

“I don’t even think they noticed I was here in the first place,” she mumbled back.

“Iron Man is here, no one gives a shit about us.” Natasha breathed out something that almost resembled a laugh. “Go. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

Being alone in her room sounded much more appealing than going back downstairs and attempting to socialize. So she nodded, pulling away from Clint and standing, using his shoulder to steady herself when she was hit by a wave of vodka-induced dizziness. No one noticed her slip silently into Tony’s lab to take the back way downstairs, and she was grateful for the silence that enveloped her when the elevator doors shut.

Once she’d closed the door to her room behind her she tried to distract herself with an ice cold shower and getting ready for bed. When that didn’t work, she sat herself on the couch with a fresh bottle of vodka from her own collection, staring blankly out of the giant windows at the city below and trying to clear her mind. The alcohol was starting to really hit her, but it still didn’t dull the ache in her chest so she kept drinking, desperately wishing, once again, that she could actually get drunk like a normal person.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but eventually she forced herself to cross the room and crawl into bed, leaving the uncapped bottle on her nightstand and not even bothering to turn off the light or plug in her phone. Once she finally burrowed herself under the safety of her blanket, she felt her eyes begin to sting and nothing she did could stop the tears that poured out of them and onto the pillow. She pulled the blanket over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, but the world jolted underneath her and they flew open again.

And then she realized, despite having no desire to be at the party, she really, _really_ didn’t want to be alone. She wondered if Steve was still at the party or not, and she hated herself for it.

God, she was such an _idiot_. She was selfish for wanting him to herself, especially considering how much she’d already hurt him.

Before she could convince herself not to she sat up and swung her feet over the bed to stand. With her mind in such a haze she couldn’t quite remember how she ended up standing in front of Steve’s door, even despite the nagging voice in the back of her head told her to just go back downstairs and go to bed.

She ignored it and knocked anyway.

Steve hated Stark’s parties, but none of them had ever been quite this depressing. It felt odd to him to be at a party in the first place, considering everything that had happened in the last week. The guests were having an unsettlingly good time despite the tragedy that had brought them there, and it pissed him off. Some of them were there for the right reasons, but considering how many people had approached him and attempted to strike up a boring conversation, he knew their motives weren’t exactly pure.

Earlier that night he’d overheard Tony drunkenly admit to Pepper how guilty he felt about the whole thing, and how he’d hoped this would ease his conscience. Apparently it hadn’t.

Steve had excused himself early, claiming he was tired, and retreated upstairs to his dark, quiet suite, away from the noise and large group of people having an unsettlingly good time. He tried to sleep, but despite how exhausted he was - both physically and mentally - he couldn’t get his brain to quiet down long enough to drift off. It had been the same all week, only getting a few hours at a time, and even then he was so restless he might as well have been awake the whole time.

He lost track of how long he’d laid in bed staring at the ceiling, and finally sat up with a frustrated sigh to cross the room to the kitchenette. He’d stashed the flask Thor had given him in the cabinet after getting to his room so he pulled it out, taking a long swig from it and wincing as it burned all the way down his throat. When he opened his eyes again he had to blink a few times to get the room to focus, grateful for the slight buzz it was already giving him. Hopefully it would help calm his mind enough for him to sleep.

There was a soft knock on the door and he frowned, replacing the cap on the bottle and setting it down on the counter.

“Jarvis?” he asked softly, before he remembered. “Sorry-“

“It’s quite alright, Captain,” Friday answered. “It’s Ms. Romanoff.”

Steve froze, unsure what to do. She’d barely spoken to him since they’d returned from Sokovia; in fact, she’d barely spoken to anyone, keeping to herself when they weren’t working or doing press, but he’d felt as if she’d been avoiding him the most. He’d seen her socializing a bit during the benefit earlier, but had primarily stuck with Clint until disappearing for the rest of the night. He figured it had something to do with Bruce leaving, and assumed she didn’t need him of all people to bother her, so he gave her the space.

It was _awful_. They’d been so distant for so long, and at this point, he didn’t know what else to do.

“Should I tell her you’re unavailable?” Friday asked when he didn’t move. Steve took another quick gulp from the bottle next to him, shuddering as it went down.

“No, it’s okay. Thanks,” he replied, then crossed the room to pull open the door.

She stared at him for a few seconds, looking surprised that he’d even opened it at all. She’d already showered and changed since he saw her last, since instead of the cocktail dress and pinned up curls, her hair was down and still a little damp, and she was wearing shorts and one of Clint’s old t-shirts that was at least two sizes too big.

“Hi,” she said, her voice shaking uncharacteristically, staring up at him with wide eyes that were red and swollen.

“Hey.” It was suddenly too difficult to form words. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” She averted her gaze, but only for a split second. “Do you remember, when we were driving to Jersey last year…I asked you…and you said…you wanted me to be a friend. Remember?” She was stumbling over her words, like she’d practiced them over and over again but still couldn’t get them to make sense. Steve swallowed hard and nodded. She held up the bottle of vodka. “I need you to be my friend right now.”

With that she pushed past him into his room, unscrewing the cap on the bottle. Steve closed the door behind her and watched her fall down on the sofa before take a long gulp, barely even wincing as she swallowed it down.

“When did we stop being friends?” he asked finally.

“I don’t know.” She wasn’t looking at him, staring at the bottle in her hands instead. “Probably right around the time I slept with you because I felt like shit about myself and then didn’t talk to you for two months.” Steve tensed, unable to do anything but gape at her stupidly. It had been _months_, and after that first time they’d had something almost resembling a conversation about it, it had never been brought up again. She took another drink and shook her head. “Sorry. I’m drunk.”

“How much of that have you had?” In any other situation, he’d be amused. It was rare that she drank enough to actually get drunk - she told him once that it made her uncomfortable to have so little control - but when she did, she was never like this. This worried him, seeing someone who normally hid everything so flawlessly allowing herself to willingly becoming this vulnerable.

“Stopped counting after the first bottle,” she replied bitterly.

Steve crossed the space between them and hesitantly sat on the opposite end of the sofa. She not-so-subtly adjusted herself away when he did.

“What did you see?” she asked finally, after a few long, uncomfortably silent minutes, and glanced over at him. “In your vision?”

Steve swallowed thickly, averting his gaze and staring down at the floor instead.

“Peggy.” He could still feel her eyes on him, waiting for more. “It was like…like a bad flashback. A really bad one. Not real enough to be a hallucination but too vivid to be a nightmare.”

He braved a glance over at her. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, just fiddling with the corner of the label that was peeling from the bottle in her hands.

He wanted to tell her the truth, that he’d seen _her,_ but the logical part of his brain reminded him how terrible of an idea it was. Instead, he said the next thing that came to his mind before he could convince himself it was an even worse idea.

“What about you?”

Natasha barely reacted at first. She just stared blankly at the floor. Finally she took a long, slow breath and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“The Red Room,” she said softly. She ducked her head, aiming it away from him so he couldn’t see her face. “I assume by now you’ve figured out I can’t get pregnant.”

“Yeah.”

In the moment he hadn’t really given it a second thought; she’d told him not to worry about it and he trusted her enough not to. But the more he thought about it, it made sense that the Red Room would want to take that precaution.

Natasha closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She took a long drink, winced, set it on the floor at her feet, and fell backwards against the cushions of the sofa.

“Yeah, well. It was even better living through it the second time.”

She closed her eyes, bringing one of her hands up to cover them. An ache shot through Steve’s chest; he wanted to reach out, pull her against him and just hold her, let her get out whatever she needed to until she felt better. But he didn’t, and just watched her carefully instead. She didn’t move beyond shaky, uneven breaths.

“Do you even…_want_ that?” he asked finally. She shot him a look that made him instantly regret the words.

“Doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Of course it does. There are other ways to have kids, if that’s what you want.” She just continued to scowl at him.

“That’s not the point,” she shot back. “They took that from me, without asking. They took a _lot_ of things from me without asking, but that’s the one thing I can’t pretend didn’t happen. It’s permanent.”

“But…you don’t want kids.” She finally looked away from him, leaning her head back against the couch to stare up at the ceiling.

“You don’t get it,” she said softly. “I made the decision to join SHIELD. To be a part of the Avengers initiative. To move past the unforgivable things I’ve done. But I didn’t get to decide this.”

“Why does it bother you?” She glanced over at him but the glare was gone, replaced by a practiced empty stare.

“Because it reminds me that the unforgivable things are unforgivable.” Her eyes went back to the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter what else I do or how many people’s lives I save. They’ll always have just enough control over me to never let me go.”

She closed her eyes again, squeezing them shut, no doubt in an attempt to hold back the tear that escaped down her cheek and disappeared into her hair.

“And if I tell you I think you’re wrong?”

She just sighed. “I’ll disagree.”

“Thought so.”

They were silent for a few more long seconds. Steve suddenly wished the flask of Thor’s liquor wasn’t all the way across the room.

“He wanted to leave,” Natasha said finally, voice barely above a whisper. She let out a long breath and pushed herself upright again. “Bruce. He wanted me to go with him.” She shrugged, shaking her head a bit. “It was my idea.”

Steve tightened his jaw at the thought, a sudden jolt of jealousy and irritation passing through him. “Why didn’t you?”

“And leave you guys in Sokovia to deal with Ultron yourself?” she shot back with a glare. “I may be a monster, but I’m not that terrible.”

“Who said you were a monster?”

Natasha averted her gaze again instead of answering him, so he tried to put the pieces together on his own. Clint would _never_ say something like that, and neither would Thor or Tony. Wanda could have put something in her head, but it didn’t seem likely; she and Natasha had taken to each other rather quickly, and besides…if his own vision was an example, Wanda hadn’t put her own thoughts into their heads, just made them relive things that already haunted them. And it wasn’t Ultron’s style to attempt to compromise someone like Natasha like that.

“It was Banner, wasn’t it?”

“Steve-“

“He’s a jackass.”

Bruce was his friend. Steve had never had a legitimate reason to dislike him. But the thought that he’d made Natasha feel worthless and encouraged her to feel that way gave him the urge to punch him in the face if he ever saw him again. Natasha Romanoff was not the kind of person who showed up in the middle of the night, drunk and crying. Knowing someone was to blame for it, no matter who it was, made his blood boil.

“No, he’s not. He just understands.”

“Natasha-“ Steve adjusted himself towards her. She tensed, but didn’t move away. “You’re the _strongest_ person I’ve ever met. You’re loyal, and kind, and _unfathomably_ intelligent. If you were half the person you say everyone thinks you are, you wouldn’t be any of those things.”

“I still disagree.”

“Then disagree, but it doesn’t change anything.”

She sat upright again, finally lifting her gaze to meet his.

“You became Captain America because you hate bullies. You hate people who murder innocent civilians.” Her bottom lip trembled, just slightly, just enough for him to notice. “How am I any different?”

“Because you realized what you were doing and stopped doing it.”

“People still got killed.”

“Yeah, _bad_ people. People who didn’t make the same decision you did.”

“And how many people in Sokovia got to decide whether they died or not that morning?”

Steve could only gape at her.

“That wasn’t your fault.” She just hummed with disagreement and averted her gaze. “Natasha…you didn’t create Ultron. Tony and Bruce did. You had _nothing_ to do with it.”

“How many people died when we took down SHIELD, because we didn’t figure it out sooner? How many people died in the Battle of New York because we were unprepared? How many people died-“

“How many people would have died if you hadn’t taken down Pierce?” Steve cut in. “And how many more would have if you hadn’t closed that portal? Or if we hadn’t taken down all of those Hydra cells looking for the scepter? Or…or every group of mercenaries and terrorists and god knows what else?” She was silent. “You can only control so much, Nat.”

Finally she looked up at him, gears turning in her head as she considered his words. Her eyes were glazed over, wide and unblinking as they bore into his.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “At least I’ve never decided to nosedive a plane into the arctic to save the world instead of rerouting the flight path.”

Steve knew what she was doing - deflecting with a poorly timed joke, like she often did - but the corner of his mouth still curved upwards. “Yeah. You’d be an idiot to do that.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t say idiot.” She turned towards him, tucking one leg underneath her, her eyes never leaving his. “More like…reckless? Dramatic?”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.”

She didn’t respond with anything more than a soft sideways smile, the one that he loved, the one it seemed she reserved just for him. She watched him for a few long seconds and, had he not been too distracted by the way the moonlight was streaming into the room just perfectly enough to light up her face - she was practically _glowing_, curls deeply red contrasting against her pale skin - he would have noticed her eyes flit down to his lips (more than once), would have noticed the flush on her cheeks and the cloudiness in her eyes, would have noticed her moving towards him…and he would have noticed it a lot sooner than when she was already slipping her hand up and around his neck to pull him down and press her lips hard against his. He might have been ready to either stop her or meet her halfway, both of which were better options than just sitting dumbfounded while she kissed him, incapable of doing much else.

Finally his brain caught up to him and he reciprocated, leaning into her and sliding his hand into her hair, angling her head back for more comfortable access. She pulled herself onto her knees and twisting over him to straddle his lap, her other hand meeting the one around his neck.

Just as suddenly as it had happened, he realized _what_ had happened, and panicked. This wasn’t right, this couldn’t happen…not again. He ducked his head just enough to free his lips from hers.

“Hey-“ he started, but she didn’t let him continue. He gave in, just for a second, but he knew if he didn’t stop her now, he’d let it go too far. He turned his head away from her again. “Nat, stop-“

“Why?” she replied softly, trailing kisses down his jaw and to his neck. She moved one of the hands around his neck down his arm, and gently started moving her fingertips below his t-shirt, the touch of her skin on his stomach making his heart flip. She used her other hand to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him back over to meet her lips again.

He closed his eyes, letting her. He knew she was drunk, and he _knew_ they shouldn’t do this again…but _god_, had he missed her.

_Shit_.

He pulled his head away from her again and she let out a soft, desperate whine as she tried to pull him back, something he’d never expect to hear from her. He maneuvered his hands to rest on her shoulders and pushed her away just enough so that she couldn’t kiss him anymore. Every time she did it made him too dizzy to think straight.

“We can’t do this again.” She rested both of her hands on his chest to steady herself, then glanced up to meet his gaze. “I’m a little drunk. And you’re _very_ drunk.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

She furrowed her brows, a little crease forming between them, blinking a few times like she was trying to focus on him. Her mouth parted slightly, her eyes dropping down to stare aimlessly at her hands which were still resting on his chest. She moved one of them up to absentmindedly fiddle with the collar his t-shirt, her thumb running gently over his collarbone. Finally she stretched her arms out to rest them on each of his shoulders, adjusting herself closer to him again, grinding down on him just enough for him to grit his teeth together and shoot her a withering look.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Natasha smirked at him, bringing herself to hover just in front of him, just shy of touching his lips with her own again. “What am I doing?”

“You’re using the Black Widow on me,” he replied; she raised an eyebrow at him, and he couldn’t help the slight upturn of his lips.

“Is it working?” she asked, brushing her lips against his and sliding one of her hands through through his hair. He let out an exasperated sigh, desperately fighting the urge to just give in and drag her across the room to his bed and show her exactly how much it _was_ working.

She noticed. Her lips twitched up into what almost looked like a grin before tilting her head down to press her lips softly against his again. He let her, his arms tightening around her waist and pulling her towards him again.

The feeling of her lips against his, along with the foreign liquor still buzzing around in his brain and the feeling of her fingers sliding through his hair, made him wonder whether he should just give in and let it happen, regardless of how they’d feel about it in the morning. As if she could read his mind she deepened the kiss, curling her fingers into his hair and pulling him as close as she could.

Steve _wished_ he could be that person. He wished he could just forget about the consequences and be selfish for once. He sighed and pulled away from her again.

“Shit. We can’t do this,” he breathed, his lips still moving against hers. Finally - _finally_ \- she gave up, resting her forehead against his instead. “Not like this. Not when you’re-“

“Pathetic?” she finished for him bitterly. He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear, causing her to lift her head and meet his gaze. The mask was gone, the persona going with it; now she was just her, just Natasha, her eyes wide and glazed over.

“I was gonna say upset.” She averted her gaze, staring down at her hands instead. “You should probably drink some water.” She let out a huff, but he wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a laugh or irritation. It was most likely somewhere in the middle. “A lot of it.”

“I’d rather have more vodka,” she muttered, leaning back a bit, letting her hands slide down to rest on his chest again.

“I know _you_ can handle your liquor, but I can’t handle you with it.” He offered her a small smile, which she almost returned.

“Good to know.” Steve thought it might have been meant to be lighthearted, but it fell flat. She twisted off of him to sit beside him on the couch instead. “I should go back downstairs anyway.”

“You don’t have to.” She just shot him an exasperated sideways glance. “Look, it’s been a long week, and…I don’t really…want to be alone right now. I don’t think you do either.”

Natasha didn’t reply, just averted her gaze to stare down at the floor. Then she sighed and shook her head, her lip trembling just enough for him to notice.

Steve stood and reached his hand out for her. She hesitated but took it and let him help her up from the couch. When she stood she stumbled a bit, and he slid his arm around her waist to hold her steady.

Once he’d guided her over to the bed he crossed the room to get her some water. She was silent while he found a glass and filled it from the tap, and when he returned to her and held it out, she took it from his hands and took a small sip.

“You should drink that whole thing,” he suggested, but she rolled her eyes.

“I have never been hungover in my life, Rogers. I’ll be fine.”

She’d gotten about half of it down by the time he rounded the bed and climbed in next to her. She sat the glass down on the nightstand and carefully slid under the blanket, turning onto her side so her back was to him. They fell into silence, her soft breaths next to him the only sounds filling the room.

“Steve?” she said suddenly, her voice raspy, and when he hummed in response she rolled over, tucking herself up against his side. He slid his arm beneath her so her head was nestled on her shoulder, and she reached her arm across him, her fingers curling around the blanket covering them. “I’m sorry.”

The way she said it, her voice small and unsteady, sent an ache through his chest.

“Sorry for what?”

“For…everything. For how I’ve…I’ve treated you.” This wasn’t easy for her, he could tell. He didn’t reply, just waited for her to be comfortable enough to continue. “For…for leaving, and Br-“ She stopped herself, taking in a sharp breath instead. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper. He tilted his head down to place a soft kiss against her hair.

“You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see? the rest was worth it for the clintasha and stevenat fluff, right? ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**UPSTATE NEW YORK | JULY 2015**

“Give me my kid back, Romanoff.”

“I'm good, thanks.”

Clint let out an irritated huff, which Natasha ignored. Instead she dropped her gaze back down to Nathaniel, who was fast asleep in her arms, his head nuzzled against his chest.

He’d been there for a good hour already, after waking up crying. Natasha, who had been staying in the room across the hall for the last couple months, got to him first and took him downstairs before he woke up everyone else. She gave him a bottle and he’d fallen back to sleep in her arms almost instantly, but she didn’t have the heart to put him back in his crib and risk waking him up again.

And besides…she didn’t really want to.

“He needs to sleep in his crib otherwise he’ll never get used to it,” Clint protested, taking a seat on the sofa next to her.

“He looks pretty comfortable already.” Clint just chuckled, and when he didn’t argue, she finally glanced up at him. He was watching her with a soft, sleepy smile on his face. “What?”

“For someone who insists they don’t like kids, you’re very possessive of this one.”

“I only like _your_ kids.” Clint just rolled his eyes and collapsed back on the couch. “Why are you up anyway? I brought him down here so you didn’t have to be.”

“Can’t sleep. My schedule is fucked.” He yawned, which only proved his point. “Thanks for getting him. Laura’s exhausted.”

Nathaniel let out a sigh in his sleep and Natasha glanced back down at him, the corner of her lips curving up into a small smile. She pushed back his little tuft of hair, and she could swear he snuggled closer to her when she did.

She missed all of this with the other two. SHIELD had worked her overtime with Clint taking a few months off when Cooper was born so she didn’t get to see him much, and even after she’d come back after Lila was a few months old, she was never this involved.

But this…sitting in the dark, quiet living room in the middle of the night with Nathaniel’s head on her chest, his little breaths and noises filling the room while he slept? She didn’t realize what she’d been missing.

“I know you’re having fun playing fairy godmother, but you know you’ve gotta go back sometime…right?”

“I know.” She avoided Clint’s hard stare, watching the baby instead. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know.” She paused, shaking her head lightly. “I guess…it’s just so _permanent_, you know?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Felt like that when I moved in with Laura. SHIELD demanded a lot from us and we didn’t want to admit what settling down meant.”

“Exactly. It’s a commitment.” She hesitated before adding softly, “No way out.”

“Which means you can’t leave again.”

Natasha pulled her bottom lip under her teeth and bit down hard, pushing back the overwhelming anxiety that bubbled up out of nowhere whenever she thought about it. Every time she did she felt herself start to panic, knowing that if she took Tony up on his offer, there would be no going back. If she left again, it would hurt a lot of people.

She’d always relied on that freedom, knowing she could disappear into thin air without a second thought. She hadn’t had an ounce of stability since SHIELD fell, and although she knew this was a different situation entirely, the ability to leave whenever she felt like she needed to was more comfortable.

“I just…don’t want to say yes and realize I can’t commit to it,” she said finally, once she finally found the words.

“But you wanna say yes.”

Natasha met Clint’s gaze again. He knew her too well.

“Yeah.”

“Then say yes.” Natasha just sighed. “Is it because of Rogers?”

“No,” she replied, much too quickly if Clint’s raised eyebrow was any indication. “It’s not. We’re…” She paused, swallowing thickly against the sudden dryness of her throat. “We’re good. It’s not him.”

“For a world class spy, you’re a really shitty liar,” he replied flatly.

“Shut up,” Natasha muttered under her breath, despite the smile that spread across her lips. Clint just yawned in response and closed his eyes, burrowing back against the cushions and letting his head fall to rest against her shoulder. “What if I regret it?”

“You’re the Black Widow. You don’t have regrets.” Natasha rolled her eyes. She’d said that to him the day after he brought her to SHIELD, when she started getting pissed off about his excessive questioning. He’d never let her forget about her - in his words - superiority complex. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you.” He twisted his head to place a soft kiss on her shoulder. “Call Stark tomorrow. Tell him you’re taking the job.”

“Okay,” she answered softly.

“Then stop being an idiot and tell Rogers you’re in love with him already. I’m sick of running interference.”

“You’re obnoxious, you know that?” Natasha replied, thankful he couldn’t see the look on her face. Had she not had a peacefully sleeping baby in her arms, he would have gotten a smack in the face for that.

“Yep.”

The three months following the situation with Ultron were busy, but Steve didn’t mind. Sitting around the tower between possible hits on the scepter had been less than exciting, and he was glad to keep himself occupied. On top of the seemingly endless press they were subjected to in the aftermath of the disaster in Novigrad, the new Avengers Facility had finished construction on schedule, and considering Steve was going to essentially be the head of the Avengers Organization going forward, his attention was very much in demand as Tony prepared to open the facility.

Steve had moved from the tower to upstate New York a few weeks ago, bringing Wanda and Vision with him. Wanda still struggled after losing her brother, but after coming back with them from Sokovia, she was eager to join the team. The team had taken an instant liking to her, and she and Steve got along quite well. He was glad she’d decided to stay.

Clint in particular had become very protective over Wanda, and had introduced her to his family almost immediately. He’d officially retired from the Avengers, which Tony didn’t take lightly, but begrudgingly accepted it after several weeks of Clint’s unwavering insistence that he was done.

Laura had given birth to their son - appropriately named for his godmother and the man who had sacrificed his life to allow his father to see him come into the world - a few weeks after they’d returned from Novigrad. After the disaster that Ultron had turned out to be, he decided his priorities needed to be with his family for the foreseeable future.

Natasha had been at the Barton’s since before Nathaniel was born, claiming she needed a break and wanted to be there to help them with the baby. She’d only checked in a few times, leaving most of the preparations for the move to Steve and Tony.

It wasn’t like the last time she’d left, though. Tony had been bugging her for weeks about whether she wanted to co-lead the Initiative with Steve, and in true Natasha fashion, she’d waited until the very last minute to finally agree. Today was the first official day of training with the new team, so Steve had been so busy all day that he’d only seen her briefly that morning as they passed each other in the hall. He’d almost run into Tony when he saw her, to which she just smirked and rolled her eyes before continuing down the hall.

Sam had moved in a few days ago as well. After several months of deliberation he’d finally decided to take Tony up on his offer to leave his day job and become an official member of the team. As much as Steve knew Sam loved his job at the VA, he’d been ready to move on to bigger and better things. Steve hadn’t seen him much since moving from DC to New York after Christmas, only the occasional mission where they needed extra help, so he was happy to have him around again.

Thor decided not to stick around. The nine realms were still in disarray after the situation in London, and he’d also been itching to find out more about the infinity stones he’d discovered while searching for answers about Ultron. He’d agreed to assist them until the facility opened, but was leaving shortly to head off on his own.

“One last matter to discuss before I go.”

Steve shot a sideways glance over at Tony, who was still looking straight ahead as he walked on the opposite side of Thor. Tony had made the trip upstate from the city that morning, both to oversee operations of the facility and to say goodbye to Thor.

“What’s that?”

“Vision.”

He didn’t elaborate. Vision had moved into the compound as well, mostly because they weren’t entirely sure what to do with him. Thus far he hadn’t tried to destroy the planet, so he wasn’t a threat, but he also wasn’t technically _human_ either.

“What about him?” Thor asked, when Tony didn’t continue.

“He can lift the hammer.”

Thor let out a booming laugh that echoed down the long hall the three of them were walking down.

“You’re still going on about that?”

“He has a point,” Steve agreed.

“He is worthy, I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“It’s not that simple!” Tony argued.

“The rules have changed,” Steve said, and Thor just shook his head in amusement.

“We’re dealing with something new.”

“The Vision is artificial intelligence.”

“A machine.”

“So it doesn’t count.” Steve glanced over at the two of them. Thor just smiled, letting them state their case.

“No. It’s not like a…_person_ lifting the hammer.”

“Right,” Steve replied, gesturing between himself and Tony. “Different rules for us,” he added, opting not to mention the fact that he’d felt Mjolnir move when he’d tried to lift it. Tony hadn’t noticed the night of the party, and he wasn’t sure if Thor had either. He’d considered trying to pick it up again without a crowd, just out of pure curiosity…but it hadn’t seemed right, so he’d let it go.

Now didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up.

“Nice guy, artificial.”

“_Thank_ you.”

“He can wield the hammer, he can keep the mind stone,” Thor interjected finally. He slowed to a halt and both Tony and Steve followed his lead. “It’s safe with the Vision. And these days safe is in short supply.”

A thought that had suddenly popped into Steve’s head. “But if you put the hammer in an _elevator_…”

“It would still go up,” Tony agreed.

“Elevator’s not worthy,” Steve muttered under his breath.

“I’m going to miss these little talks of ours,” Thor said, ignoring their argument and placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Not if you don’t leave,” Tony suggested.

“I have no choice.” Thor continued walking, and the two of them followed. “The mind stone is the forth of the infinity stones to show up in the last few years. That’s not a coincidence. Someone has been playing an intricate game and made pawns of us.” They reached the door that would lead outside and Thor led the way through it. “And once all these pieces are in position-“

“Triple Yahtzee?” Tony guessed, pulling out his sunglasses and sliding them on.

“You think you can find out what’s coming?” Steve asked, glancing over to Thor.

“I do.” He turned to Tony and slapped him across the chest. “Besides this one, there’s nothing that can’t be explained.”

With that, Thor stepped a few paces away from them and offered them a smile and a nod. He lifted his hammer and tilted his head back towards the sky, and with a flash of light and a rumble of thunder, he was gone, leaving an intricate norse pattern burned into the grass behind him.

“That man has _no_ regard for lawn maintenance,” Tony said with an exasperated glanced over at Steve. He turned and began walking towards the road. “I’m gonna miss him though. And _you’re_ gonna miss me…there’s gonna be a _lot_ of manful tears.” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out his keys, signaling for his self-driving car to meet them outside.

“I _will _miss you Tony,” Steve replied, deciding not to remind him that they were only a few hours away and Tony was, technically, still an active member of the Avengers Organization. Steve knew Tony wanted to dial it back a bit, focus on Pepper and their company, but he highly doubted he would step down completely.

“Yeah?” he asked with an amused grin. “Well, it’s time for me to tap out. Maybe I should take a page out of Barton’s book. Build Pepper a farm? Hope nobody blows it up?”

“The simple life.”

“You’ll get there one day,” Tony insisted, and Steve averted his gaze.

“I don’t know. Family, stability…” He paused. Sure, he’d _thought_ about it since waking up a few years ago. He’d always assumed that, after the war, that’s the direction his life would go. He would take Peggy dancing, maybe they’d get end up getting married, have a few kids. He could retire. After waking up in 2012, however, things changed. It wasn’t that easy anymore, and even though settling down and having a family was appealing sometimes, he had to be realistic. That sort of life was unattainable for the foreseeable future, and he didn’t want to have to make the same decisions that he knew Barton did every day between work and a hypothetical family. The world relied too heavily on him for that. “Guy who wanted all that went into the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out.”

Tony just nodded, unsure of what to say. He turned to the car and pulled the door open, but paused before getting in. “You alright?”

Steve took in a deep breath, glancing past Tony at the compound. For the first time in over a year, he could honestly say he _was_ alright. He had a mission now, one that wouldn’t result in a million new questions and dead ends. He had a directive, a team to lead. A way to continue making the world a better place.

This was comfortable. Familiar.

_We can go home, Steve. Imagine it._

Peggy’s voice echoed in his head. He’d always considered his home to be Brooklyn, with Bucky and his mother. It bothered him that he’d never get back to that, to that feeling of _belonging_ somewhere. He’d felt so out of place ever since waking up from the ice, always with that desperate longing looming over him that told him he’d never get to go back. He’d never have that home again.

And then his mind drifted to Natasha, who was upstairs at that exact moment, waiting for him. He didn’t know what was to come, whether it be in his own life or what the future for the Avengers looked like; but as long as she was still fighting by his side, he knew it would all work out.

“I’m home,” he said finally. And for the first time in decades, the word actually held meaning.

Tony just smiled at him, looking a little confused but apparently accepting his answer. He slid into the drivers side of his car and pulled the door shut, cranking up whatever classic rock song was playing on the stereo before slamming on the gas and pulling away with a loud crunch of gravel and a cloud of dust.

Steve knew the team would be waiting on him, so he turned back to the facility and made his way back inside. He found Natasha upstairs in an empty room, arms crossed across her chest.

“Wanna keep starin’ at the wall, or do you want to go to work?” he asked, his voice echoing across the room. She glanced back at him and shot him a dirty look. “I mean, it’s a pretty interesting wall…”

“Thought you and Tony were still gazing into each other’s eyes,” she shot back, turning to cross the distance between them. He handed her the tablet he’d picked up in their office on the way upstairs and she glanced down at it as he led the way back towards the hanger to meet the ream. “How do we look?”

“Well we’re not the twenty-seven Yankees.”

“We’ve got some hitters.” The corner of his mouth curved upwards. That may have been the first time she hadn’t rolled her eyes at one of his baseball references.

“They’re not a team,” he replied. Natasha pulled her eyes away from the tablet as they approached the hangar door.

“Let’s beat ‘em into shape.”

Steve pushed open the door, and sure enough, everyone was gathered in the hangar waiting for them. Sam and Wanda, who had been practicing her newfound ability to use her powers to hover in the air, landed on the ground, and a grin spread across Sam’s face. Vision had been watching the two of them and turned around when they entered the hangar. Rhodes was there too, and the faceplate of his War Machine suit flipped upwards.

“Avengers…”

Steve paused and couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face, the feeling of finally being in his element washing over him again. He opened his mouth to continue, but was suddenly interrupted.

“Assemble,” Natasha cut in, shooting him a smirk over her shoulder as she brushed past him and hopped down the stairs. Sam snorted out a laugh.

“That’s _exactly_ how I thought this was going to work.”

Natasha had never lived outside of a city. She’d been born in Volgograd, raised in Moscow, and after joining SHIELD, split her time between DC and New York City. Everywhere she’d taken up residence for any extended period of time was also in a larger metro area, as it was much easier to blend in.

She’d never even really even _had_ a place that felt like home, even when she’d stayed with Clint and Laura in their apartment in DC after he’d brought her to SHIELD. Despite the amount of time she’d spent there, even that had never really felt like _hers_.

Something about living in the new Avengers compound, however, felt comfortable. The facility was secluded, right on the Hudson River; but despite that, she didn’t feel _alone_.

“Do you ever sleep?”

Natasha tore her eyes away from the giant floor to ceiling windows overlooking the facility’s grounds to see Steve leaning in the doorway of their office. She raised an eyebrow at him and took a sip of the drink in her hand.

“Do _you?_”

He just shrugged in agreement and pushed himself upright to cross the room to take a seat at his own desk that sat back-to-back with hers. Natasha reached for a second glass in the bottom drawer of her desk, poured him a drink, and slid it towards him across their desks. He grabbed it and took a long swig of it before leaning back in his chair.

“How’s the baby?” he asked as she took another sip and went back to staring out the window.

“Good. I’m already his favorite.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Of course you are.”

She missed the Bartons, especially after spending so much time with them over the last few months. It had been nice not to worry about work while she was there and concentrate instead on helping Laura and Clint with the baby and entertaining the kids. But she’d begun to feel restless, and Clint was right: she _did_ want to do this, move into the compound and help Steve lead the team. She was still a little apprehensive about it, but deep down, she knew she was always going to accept.

As soon as she’d arrived at the compound earlier that day she knew she’d made the right decision. All of it felt comfortably familiar, especially with Steve at her side again. Somehow they’d fallen right back into rhythm, like nothing had changed. Like they were partners again.

“Training went well,” Steve commented after a long stretch of silence, as if he could read her mind.

“Sam and Rhodes work well together. But Vision doesn’t really seem like he knows what to do in a team dynamic.”

Steve hummed in agreement. “I have no idea what we’re going to do about Wanda. _She_ doesn’t even know what she’s capable of.”

“Well you’re more durable, so she can test it out on you,” Natasha quipped, smirking over at him. He rolled his eyes, but she saw the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. He caught her eye and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then quickly closed it again. “Spit it out, Rogers.”

He huffed out a laugh but averted his gaze, opting instead to stare down at the glass in his hands.

“I just…I’m glad you decided to come back.”

“Yeah?”

He glanced up at her again, the smile fading from his lips a bit. “I didn’t know if you would.”

The hopeful look in his eyes as he watched her was overwhelming, but she didn’t look away. She just shrugged. “Got nowhere else to go.”

“So…” he hesitated. “You’re gonna stick around?”

Natasha replied by huffing out a soft laugh. He grinned at her, a little sideways one, before finally averting his gaze again and concentrating on the glass in his hands. Natasha watched him for a few seconds, suddenly fascinated by the way he was moving his thumb back and forth across the rim of his glass.

She’d thought about leaving again. She thought she might stay with the Bartons for a while when the baby was born, and then head overseas, see what kind of freelance work she could get. Maybe come back if the Avengers faced another world-ending threat.

But then, the morning after the Stark Industries benefit, she’d woken up with Steve’s ridiculously warm body wrapped around her, a fresh bottle of water sitting on the nightstand next to her, and five texts from Clint (on the phone she didn’t remember plugging into Steve’s charger) telling her to wake up or he’d leave without her. And for the first time, it wasn’t too much. It wasn’t too familiar. It was _comfortable_.

“Yeah. I’m gonna stay.”

It was a commitment, deciding to finally settle down in one place. But once she said the words out loud, they didn’t seem as terrifying as they used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for reading, especially those of you who have been here since the beginning! I read every single comment and they always make my day. It means the absolute world to me, so thank you thank you thank you, you're all wonderful <3
> 
> Part three, Casualties of War, should be up within the next few days!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/capsiclewidow) | [tumblr](https://capsiclewidow.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> an alternate title for this installment: Steve And Natasha Are Idiots
> 
> hope you enjoy, and don't hate me too much ;)


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